Paradigm
by ButterflyBird
Summary: Erik finds young Christine in the middle of a blizzard. Unable to turn his back from her he makes the choice to take her with him, but as the child begins to charm Erik, he must question whether he can keep her, and if he does, how does he survive living with her - without taking her away from the world she knows.
1. Blizzard

This is my first attempt at a Phantom of the Opera story, I hope you all enjoy it but let me make it clear that this story is not for the faint of heart as it will have some **harsh theme**s later on.

Enjoy.

**Chapter I: Shelter**

This was it. Christine Daae could feel it in his limbs as they trudged through the God-forsaken blizzard night. Her father was going to collapse at any moment. Even at the tender age of four she could sense it. He was trying hard to not give out, she knew this, but at some point he would drop, and with him so would she.

"Papa," she whimpered in the cold as his eyes searched for some sort of shelter. The snow was blocking out his face but she could sense his anxiety in the way he clutched her to him. It was almost painful, "I can walk, we'll be faster if I walk." She was trying hard to convince him but he knew better. She wouldn't be able to move in the feet of snow beneath them. She'd end up getting stuck or worse collapsing and vanishing from his sight. And that was something Gustave Daae was not willing to risk. He had lost his wife, he would not lose his child in this damn blizzard.

"H-h-hush now darling child, soon we'll find somewhere to r-rest." He tried to reassure her but the chances of this were becoming scarcer as the minutes ticked by. Gustave and Christine were exceptionally poor. It shamed him to know he couldn't even buy the girl a decent jacket, hers was brown, tattered and thin. He had given her his jacket as a second but it still wasn't enough.

They moved through the snow slowly and blindly. It wasn't until a hard gust of wind came that he spotted what seemed to be a light from a house off in the distance. It was a long and imposing structure but the warm glow cast everything else into a better light, he would go into the home even if it housed rats, all for her. He sighed a breath of relief and looked down at his daughter. She didn't look well, her big brown eyes were shut and she was rocking hard in his arms, shivering violently, her usually pink mouth was bluish. He swallowed thickly and moved forward towards the home. He would ask for some sort of shelter, embarrassing as it would be he'd gladly suffer it for the sake of Christine.

It was as they were approximately thirty feet from the tall home that he heard a horrible laughter behind him. He looked back and could see three dark figures approaching them. They were lumbering forward like shadows and he noticed that they were all bundled warmly by the looks of it. He frowned and turned his back, he was in no mood to deal with drunkards. His heart was aching from the stress and his limbs would give out at any moment. He could hardly feel his cheeks and he could hardly feel his daughter anymore. Everything was so cold. His 40 year old body wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

"Sing for me Little Lotte," her father instructed her softly, wishing something to ease her mind and his.

"What do you want me to sing Papa?" she whispered shakily up at him. Her tongue felt heavy and her teeth hurt from the chattering. She could hardly detect her father's face but she caught his eyes and shivered just a little bit. She always felt he had the warmest eyes of all of France.

"Anything you wish, anything at all." He was almost begging now.

And so she started to sing softly, her voice pierced the snow flakes and then enveloped them kindly. Her voice was always very beautiful, she had been designed for music it seemed to him from the first moment he had heard her singing to one of his pieces on the violin. She adored it when he played.

"Don't walk away!" A man laughed viciously behind Gustave. He turned around slightly, wary, and was amazed to see that these men were closer than he had thought. Had he been walking so slowly? He sped up but to his horror it was becoming increasingly more difficult, his limbs protested against the movement, his muscles rioted, and the child in his arms seemed to have stopped singing altogether. He hadn't even noticed that she wasn't singing anymore until this very moment.

"Christine," he rasped out, "stay awake my love, soon we will have shelter. Please…" He croaked, he couldn't see the tiny face anymore through the tears and the snow and the agony.

The men behind him gained more closure and with a vile laugh that woke his daughter from whatever frozen state she had been in they yanked him back. Gustave fell violently back into the snow and yelped as his elbows sunk through the top layer and collided with the icy cement beneath. He was horrified by the sight of his daughter flying from his arms and landing face down in the snow.

"Christine!" He yelled hoarsely as he watched her shriek and recoil away from the snow only to collapse into the body of one of the attackers. The shadow grabbed her violently up off the cement and held her tightly to his chest perversely. Gustave couldn't see his face and he didn't care. "Get your hands off my daughter!" He roared with more energy than he thought he had.

"Papa!" The young girl squealed with horror as the attacker grinned at her and held her tightly to his chest, smothering her in drunken kisses. He smelled like acidity, it burned through her nostrils and made her gag. "Get off me!" She pleaded, "please! Papa help me!" Her screaming seemed to annoy the attacker as before Gustaves horrified eyes the man raised his hand and backhanded her small cheek. _Hard._ Her head snapped backwards violently.

Gustave ran towards the man blindly. He would kill him. He would slaughter him for touching Christine! It was as he was a few feet away from the figure that he was knocked to his side by the other faceless man. His horror only grew when he watched the figure pull out a glinting metal weapon. "Oh God, please no do not-

"What is your name?" The attacker asked. In the white fog of snow Gustave noted a horrible grin in his face, "I will not repeat myself three times, what is your name?"

"Gustave. Please don't hurt my daughter." Gustave pleaded, his eyes darting to where he heard vile laughter and his daughter sobbing. Oh God, they'd kill her certainly, his innocent child. "Please!"

"Well Gustave-Please-Don't-Hurt-My-Daughter, I would suggest you bid farewell to her as this will be your last night with her." The voice was a sardonic one and it enraged Gustave as much as it scared him.

"Why! We have done nothing to offend you! Please I have nothing to offer!" Gustave sobbed on his knees, afraid to look for his daughter, afraid to look up, his eyes wouldn't let him see even if he searched for something in this white hell. He was afraid of what he would see, "I have nothing!" He cried as his snivel ran down his face and into his haggard beard. "I wish I could offer you possessions but all I have are the clothing I wear and my daughter. I would give you my clothing but I'd die out here sir! If it pleases you I will give you the shirt off my back! I'll give you my necklace if it means you spare my child." He shakily went for the gold chain at his neck, it held a picture of Christine, and she had one with a picture of him in it. The man took it and snorted as he put it in his pocket. "Hurt me but do not hurt my child she is a good girl! She is just a child-

"Daddy!" Christine's voice was laced with all the pain in the world as the man holding her violently threw her to the ground again. Her hand collided with the cement and she released an ear piercing scream as her hand bent at an awkward angle with her wrist. "No, no, no!" She wept horribly as the pain coursed through her entire arm. "Papa!" The blinding pain intensified and she howled into the night.

"Christine!" Gustave crawled to the sound of his daughter's voice and found her sitting halfway in the snow with a broken wrist; her big brown eyes looked to him for some sort of answer to her confusion and pain. "Oh, my darling, I'm so sorry." He wept with her, cradling her to his body, she sobbed into his shoulder worse than he had ever heard in his life. "I love you Christine, you know that."

"I love you too daddy, my wrist!" She begged him to take away the pain.

"Say goodbye, Gustave-Please-Don't-Hurt-My-Daughter." Laughed one of the assailants.

"My love, look at me," he ordered her softly, he took her small face in his hands and looked to her for some sort of forgiveness, struggling to see her eyes in the snow, "you will not see me again," he begged her to listen with his voice, "I will watch over you. I _swear_ it. I will send you an angel," he assured her in her ear. "I will send you the angel of music." He promised.

"Papa where are you going? You can't leave me with them!" She sobbed angrily. "Papa was I bad? Did I do something- No!" She screamed as an attacker wrenched her away from her father.

"Please, spare my life, spare _her_ life!" Gustave begged pathetically with the man who stood before him with the weapon pointed at his forehead.

"'Fraid I can't do that. That would ruin the fun. But don't worry; we'll groom her to be the best prostitute of all of France!" He laughed and right before Christine's eyes her father's head was split open as the crack of the gun sounded through the air.

**….**

The shadowed figure was bleeding profusely from his side. The hard throbbing at his waist flared temporarily. He would not make it to his home, he had decided thirty minutes ago. He was in need of medical care. He was always annoyed the man who he would now seek, but knew that he needed him… he would have to bite his tongue against the fool. Somehow they always ended up needing each other for one thing or the next.

In the blizzard the dark hunched figure walked swiftly as if there weren't feet of snow on the ground. He simply walked through it as if he were a ghost. As the wind whipped the figure grunted, he would need stitches, it was nothing too bad.

As he trudged on he suddenly stopped. He heard something, it was a soft singing, and he glared at the cold air. Was this death mocking him? Would he die now in this frozen night so that others would find him in the morning? They'd claim they've found the most hideous carcass known to man. Was death now teasing him with the soft melodic voice, promising him beauty if he would only get lost in the blizzard chasing it, only to die in the attempt?

He didn't know, and he didn't care. Not today.

The ghostly figure found himself drawn more and more to the voice, even as he trudged towards the house with the lights. It was so gentle, he was positive it was that of a female, a young female. It was silvery, not refined or trained, that much was obvious. It trembled horribly and she didn't annunciate properly, she mispronounced too. But still, it was hypnotizing.

It was unlike anything he had ever heard in all his years. He found himself growing interested in it. He sucked in a sharp breath as it soared. And in his strong enchantment he followed it almost drunkenly.

Suddenly, the soaring voice cut off and he glared and stopped walking. Why had she stopped singing!

It was as he took another step that he noticed with his keen eyesight a figure holding a smaller one in its arms. It seemed that this was where the voice was coming. It was as he kept looking at them that he realized they did not notice him – he was quite a few feet off and they were walking towards the lit home of Nadir. The masked figure glared and walked even more cautiously.

"Don't walk away!"

_Damn, was there no end to this torment?_ He saw three men walking quickly towards the man and the figure in his arms. The ghostly man stopped and watched curiously as the scene played out before him like a movie.

He heard very little as the wind whipped violently and the men advanced on the figure. To his amazement and increasing discomfort he watched one figure become separated into two. There was a high pitched squeal from one of them and every limb in his body stiffened. Everything played out in less then a minute. He didn't know what kept him frozen there. But to his mild discomfort he watched a pistol get whipped out and then the voice, the silvery voice, became one of horror and terror as a head got blown open.

That was enough.

Eric sprung quickly into action as he watched the small child flail and kick wildly with all its little heart. The child became increasingly more frustrated but more exhausted and as he drew nearer, limping slightly, he saw that the men were looking at the little child with eager hungry eyes.

…

"Papa!" Her voice was coming out strained now, she was struggling to breathe. "No! No!" They wrenched her up and laughed and passed her around like a small doll. "Let go of me!"

"What do you think we do with this little firecracker," one of the drunken men slurred as he grabbed her broken wrist and squeezed. Christine shrieked violently like a possessed individual.

"_You repulsive creatures."_

The voice slid into the air like a snake. It didn't come from Christine or the men. They dropped her to the ground and she sobbed face down in the snow.

The voice was angry; it frightened the child to her very core. She didn't know what to do so she sobbed there with a shiver rocking her system and a horrible sound escaping her throat, her broken wrist flared in pain once again and clutched it to her chest. She could hardly keep her eyes open anymore. Her papa wasn't moving, why wasn't he moving?

_Papa has to get up. He just has to. He will save me. He will._

"Who's there?!"

"Reveal yourself coward!"

She looked up as the men screamed things into the blizzard. There was a sudden stillness, nothing but the snow moved, and her little chest quaking with sobs.

"I'll kill ya'!" One of the men yelled.

"Butcher you real good!" The second hurled.

The third man didn't say anything. He couldn't, because suddenly he was caught around the neck with a lasso.

Christines eyes drank in the violence and her ears exploded with pain as the gun in one of the assailants hands went off violently, repeatedly. Her mouth was open in horror but she emitted no noise. Instead she watched with confusion and pain, and a looming sense of sleepiness, as a dark shadows moved, left, right, from one attacker to the other. And there was a rope... she could distinctly remember a rope. It would catch them around the neck, and then tighten. Turning their necks pink, then purple.

Before she could really get a good look at everything it was done and to her amazement the black shadow stood huffing and puffing, seemingly unharmed. How had he done that?

There was no sound except for her whimpers. The pain was becoming blinding, and she needed relief. She crawled to her father's figure in the snow and tried to make out his face there but she could not. She only saw a face of red and white, bone and blood, his nose was twisted and not in its usual place. And why was his head split like that?

"Oh, papa," she croaked gently. Shaking him with her good hand, "my hand hurts please get up." She begged.

She received nothing.

"Papa please! I'll sing for you if you'd like! I'll sing better, we'll live better but please!" She pleaded with the corpse. But she knew he wouldn't get up. She just knew it. Christine Daae broke and bent over her father's bloodied shirt to sob, how could he do this to her? First mama, now her father. The only person whom loved her - gone, and now what would she do? She couldn't sing without his violin. How would she live without her papa? The four year old released a screech of agony - completely unaware of the black shadow behind her watching her carefully.

**…**

What was he to do with this child? He didn't want to get near it. Children were horrible creatures, needy, bratty, and frightened of everything.

But he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Sighing heavily he stepped around the dead body and stared down at the child who took no notice of him. It appeared that it was stupid too. It had worked itself into a manic state and now seemed to be growing exhausted as it was slowing its sobbing down and it was slumping lazily. He realized that it was going to go unconscious.

It was as he realized it that the child suddenly sobbed sobbing and slumped forward onto the bloody chest of the corpse.

He stood there for a few moments, unsure of what to do. When the child didn't move he grew impatient, what did it think it was doing? Was it trying to trick him?

"Are you awake?" He hissed out with annoyance. It had caused him too many inconveniences already; the pain at his side was flaring up. Damn them all, he wouldn't bleed out for them.

The child remained silent as he waited for a response.

Easily he bent and picked it up. To his mild alarm it weighed much less than it should, he knew this wasn't the normal weight of any child. It was weightless and it was limp. Jogging away from the dead bodies he approached the house with the lights – his original objective before the singing voice.

The figure wasted no time in impatiently kicking at the door.

"Coming!" He heard the ccall from within. He waited and then as the door was pulled open he slid in without waiting for invitation. The warmth hit him like bricks and his fingers tensed on the child at the heat rolled through his clothing and settled on his skin. It was deliciously warm here.

"What is this!" The Persian cried with terror.

The masked man set the child upon the closest couch and turned to the horrified face of the Persian who stared at the form and then that the man he considered to be an old friend with horror. "Oh, Erik-

"You fool! I would never hurt a child! Now, are you going to help her or not!"

* * *

**So that was chapter I. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it, only reviews will make me pleased! XD Only reviews will get you more! I love hearing what you all think, so please, tell me what you all think :) **


	2. Decisions

**Chapter II**

His world felt like one great fog. He couldn't stand the pain at his side and when Nadir Khan attempted to approach him with his horribly keen eyes he waved him away. He would've shoved him but he preferred to not touch the man at all.

"What has happened to you?" The Daroga's tone was laced with the worry of one deeply concerned, Eric tossed him a disapproving glare.

"Nothing that is your concern," the voice coming from the mask was forced through clenched teeth. It was apparent that he was indeed in some deal of pain, "help the child, I'll help myself." The black figure whirled and went off stalking after medical supplies.

"Eric! Who is this child?!" Nadir asked curiously, he looked to the child and heard Eric shifting around some medical supplies. He knew that the masked man wouldn't answer him; he sighed heavily and bent down to the child. He easily recognized it as a young female. Her hair was long and plastered to her face. The skin near her right eye was swollen and purple, her wrist dangled awkwardly from her arm. "Poor child," he murmured carefully and rushed off to find supplies.

He returned quickly and grabbed the scissors. He quickly started cutting away at the child's bloody clothing. Her skinny frame made the man shudder. It had been a while since he saw someone in this state. He had hoped to never deal with an emaciated child again. But she was not emaciated, simply thin.

"Eric!" He called again.

He heard Eric step back into the room and lifted his gaze. The man had taken off his soaked black cape and now stood there watching him carefully. Half his face was exposed and he could see a frown on his features. "What are you doing?"

"I am trying to rid her of this bloody clothing. Go to the bedroom, there you will find one of my shirts, bring it here and we will dress her in that until we find something better."

Eric stalked off again and Nadir turned to the unconscious child. He assessed her wrist first. It was swelling a lot and for a moment he was at a loss for what to do first, but alas he decided her wrist was more important.

Eric returned with a long white shirt. He threw it at Nadir who caught it easily and lifted the child into a sitting position and dressed her carefully. "Eric, give me that rag."

Eric did as was commanded and stayed as far back from the unconscious child. His eyes were watching intensely as Nadir worked quickly with the child. But it was as he was wiping away the grime from the child's face that she started to stir. Eric's body seized up.

He was preparing himself for the shouting, for the violence and the mayhem that would ensue from the child's delirium. She would give him a headache; she would look upon him and then shriek some more and he'd find himself in a murderous state under two minutes.

But instead she relaxed back into the couch. With groan she fell back into a state of deep unconsciousness.

"What happened out there?" Nadir asked curiously as he looked down upon the small bruised face. He sensed Eric drawing near cautiously.

As Eric spoke he looked down at the child curiously. She had a small heart shaped face with pale lips and a puffy purple bruise beneath her eye. "I was walking here when I stumbled upon this child with her father. They were being attacked by three men. Her father was shot in the head before her and the men were going to… hurt her." He swallowed back knowing exactly what it was that they had in mind for the small girl – to groom her for prostitution like a common whore. They would not steal her innocence, instead they world sell it to the highest bidder, now or later it didn't matter. "I killed them before they could steal away into the blizzard." His tone was bored as he stared at the girl. The bruise made his discomfort intensify.

"What do we do with her?" Nadir asked seriously as he examined her wrist, "to let her go would be unwise."

"Why should it matter to us? Drop her off at an orphanage."

"Is that really-

"Father?"

The voice shocked them both. Nadir and Erik stiffened as the child stirred. Her right eye was opening up to reveal one sky colored iris. "Child, do not move." Nadir said in his softest voice.

Erik had disappeared from her view. He watched from behind a wall as Nadir placed a hand on her right shoulder, "Where is my father?" She persisted. Erik frowned severely; the sound of her voice was not the beautiful thing he had heard as was her singing. No, it was longing and pained.

"What is your name?" Nadir asked her softly.

"Christine Daae," her weak voice trailed off. Erik still could not see her fully, Nadir blocked his view. "My papa is Gustav Daae. He was with me before… we were singing and…. Oh… _oh_." Her voice once again trailed off. "My father-

"Erik get me something to numb the child, please!" Nadir called.

Erik frowned and ran off to find something. He grabbed the bottle with the clear liquid and shied his face away as he drew nearer, the child however took notice.

"You… you saved me." The child said weakly as Nadir set the cork of the vial to the side and lifted the skinny girl into a sitting position. Erik's body seized up. She was referring to him no doubt. "Did my father make it? Is he here?" She asked softly, confused and moving her lips away from the vial.

"Please drink this; it will make you feel better."

**…**

Who was this strange man at her right? He was holding her and trying to get her to drink something strange, it smelled bad. She didn't want it. Immediately she jerked her face away from the vial and continued to address the tall man in black. She couldn't see his face but she didn't have to – she knew it was him.

"Is papa here?" She asked again. Her small voice was cracking. Why weren't they answering her? All she wanted to know was where Papa was.

"No he is not." The dark figure sharply told her. She winced at him and her eyes watered instantly.

"Christine," the strange man called her attention. For the first time she looked to him. He had a beard like her papa, but his was much pointier at the chin, and he had black eyes and warmly colored skin, darker than hers and cleaner, he smiled at her, "please drink this, it won't taste very good, but it will help you feel better, alright?"

"But where is papa?" She insisted firmly.

"Damn it, Nadir!" The figure in black hissed and whirled around. She stared in shock at him. He wore a … a mask! It was white and it covered half of his face, she couldn't understand why he would wear it, the other half of his face looked fine enough. He was young looking she noticed, there weren't wrinkles in his face like her father's face. No, it was perfectly youthful. And he had very dark hair. It was a bit wet but pulled away from his face.

And his _eyes. _They were strangely … yellow. Like flowers!

"Give it here!" He snapped harshly as he approached her and the man. He grabbed the vial, spilling a bit of it and glared down at her. He was so… _tall_. "Do not look at me like that. You will drink this now girl!"

She nodded with fear and took the vial, trying hard to not gag at the scent. It was like the rotten apples her father would hunt down. She swallows it back and coughed violently at it. Before she knew it she was sinking into a deep black dreamless state.

…

"Was that necessary Erik?" Nadir asked in an annoyed fashion.

But Erik wasn't hearing him. The masked man was staring at the child in a state of interest and shock. She had not screamed at his face, she had stared wide eyed but not with fear, if not with simple surprise.

"Erik?" Nadir asked as his friend stared at the child wide eyed and with a look of shock on his face, it was subtle but Nadir had known the man long enough to know what surprise on his face looked like. "My friend, are you ill?" Nadir maneuvered the sleeping girl onto the couch carefully and stood.

Erik shuffled over to the chair where a blanket lay and grabbed it hastily. He unfolded it and Nadir watched him curiously as the tall man threw the blanket over the sleeping girls form. "I am fine Nadir." His tone was annoyed and snappy as usual. Nadir frowned at him.

"What were you doing that you were injured Erik?"

"That is none of your business." Erik's tone was final and warning. He continued to stare at the young girl on the couch with interest. His heart was beating quickly but he suppressed his internal earthquake well. How could this happen? Why had she not screamed? That had been his point in facing her – at least partially. He wanted her to scream to be frightened, to stop her stubborn attitude. He had hoped to do this by striking fear in her but instead he managed to draw out from her a look of mild surprise.

This was not at all the way he had expected it to go.

_Is it possible, that perhaps, there is one person that will not run from me or look at me with horror? That will see me and have a conversation with me not out of fear but out of interest? Nadir… well Nadir still thinks me monstrous. But she claims I saved her._

"Will she be alright?" He asked against his own will. Nadir went to the fire and threw pieces of wood into it. The flames crackled and licked the chimney excitedly.

"I think so. But what do we do when she wakes?" Erik turned to find Nadir staring at him expectantly. "You brought her here so I assume you have a plan. I will not allow you to bring her to an orphanage, unless of course you are okay with allowing her to become the very thing you were trying to save her from."

The taller man glared. "Are you planning something already Daroga?"

"Yes," Nadir Khan smiled slyly, "you will care for her Erik."

"Are you mad?" Erik snapped at him and resisted the urge to slap the stupidity from Nadir's mouth, "I cannot care for a child."

"Then will she live at the orphanage until she is thrown into the streets-

"No, that is not acceptable." Especially for one with such a _voice._ What a waste that would be… such talent! Erik could already see the potential, a silvery soprano. She had the instrument in her throat – she just needed tuning and training. She could be a master by the age of sixteen under the right training. The thought of it going to waste annoyed him and made his hands clench. Too much talent in one system, under the right training she could be great.

"What about the de Chagny home, I'm sure they would be willing to help us, you know how they love children-

"No!" Erik growled suddenly, _never them_. Nadir let out a grin before turning back to the fire and stirring the wood lazily.

"Then it is settled. She's staying with you."

* * *

**It doesn't seem like many people are reading this story :) So I was thinking to take it down after I see how many reviews I get to this chapter :) So review if you are reading please :) **


	3. Introductions

**Chapter III**

Nadir and Erik both remained vigilant of the child. Nadir persisted that Erik should get some rest but was met with a hard glare every time. Eventually he ceased his pestering of the matter and stayed at the child's side throughout the entire night.

In the morning Nadir's head rested uncomfortably against his hand, he sat by the fireplace, and Erik stayed away in the shadows, perhaps resting, perhaps watching, Nadir had stopped guessing and closed his eyes sometime in the night.

In the morning, when the storm had settled, and the sun melted it against the frosted windows there was a stirring within the home of Nadir Khan. Christine's eyes opened to the sight of a wooden ceiling above her head.

A ceiling? She had never slept with a ceiling above her head, this was strange. Stranger still was the warmth in the room, and furthermore the blanket wrapped tightly around her.

When her eyes turned she first saw a fireplace, how had it kept going? She did not recall someone putting wood in it throughout the night, surely she would have woken at the sound? Beside the fireplace she spotted the man from the night before.

Clearing her throat slightly she croaked out a meek, "Excuse me?"

The movement of her jaw caused her pain and instantly tears sprung to her eyes but whimpering she choked them back. The man on the chair seemed to not hear her so she raised her voice carefully and touched her face at the same time, hoping that by some miracle this would ease the pain of her jaw's movement, "Monsieur? Please wake up."

Nadir's eyes sprung open and locked on the child, whose hard breathing caught his attention before the wild look she was shooting at him through her one open eye. "Oh, good morning young lady, my name is Nadir Khan." He sprung to his feet and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. The small child shivered in his grasp with fear. "Can you tell me your name?" He knew her name, but he wanted to see that she remembered it herself.

"Christine," she croaked out meekly and shivered.

"That's a very nice name Christine," Nadir smiled gently, trying to ease her panic, "now, Christine you were very hurt last night. Do you remember what happened?"

Christine's little face scrunched as she tried to remember. The heat in the room made her skin tingle and try as she might she couldn't concentrate enough, everything was so strange to her here. "No, I can't remember. At least… not everything…" She confessed with embarrassment. She noticed that the man had a pretty red rug on the ground, she had always wanted to feel a rug beneath her feet. "I remember my papa and I needed to go to the house with the light." Her mispronounced words made Nadir smile, "Papa said he'd help us find warmth for the night. But then… there were men. And a black shadow… and blood… and papa's head was not the same anymore." Her face became confused.

"That is quite alright, Christine," he said to her with a kind smile, "maybe later we can clear things up about last night. Now, can you tell me – do you have anyone I can contact to tell them where you are?"

"No," she said softly again, and looked around the room and then down at her clothing, this clothing was soft on her skin and that's when she noticed her wrist. It was wrapped in an odd material, there was a dull ache there. "What… what is this?" Her little voice pondered.

"Leave that alone, Christine," Nadir commanded gently as she made an attempt to pick at the wrappings, "are you hungry?"

She noticed that he did not answer her question from before but ignored it and nodded.

"Erik!" Nadir called suddenly, she frowned. Who was this Erik that the man was shouting for?

Nadir distinctly heard a shuffling and sighed, _why is the man hiding from the sight of a child?_

"Erik can you please bring me something for Christine, a piece of bread perhaps? And a glass of warmed milk?"

Christine's eyes bulged. "You have warm milk? For me?"

Nadir smiled cheekily at her and patted her head gently, "Yes Christine, as much as you would like."

**…**

_What the hell does Nadir think he is doing?_ Was this another one of his games? Trying to make Erik come out so that the child would see him and then Erik would be forced to be in the child's presence? He could strangle the breath out of the man right now, Nadir was nothing but a nuisance. Always disregarding Erik's discomfort!

Erik struggled to compose himself as he prepared the milk for the young girl in the small kitchen of Nadir's home. Would Nadir really make him walk in there? And what would he do if he really walked in! The girl would no doubt start screaming, apparently she could not recall the events of last night as he had overheard. She would not remember that she was not afraid of him.

He sighed heavily and grabbed a mug and a piece of bread. The child would probably devour it in her starved state. Pouring the milk into the mug he watched the steam rise and swirl.

And what the hell did it matter anyway if the child screamed in horror? Good! Let her scream in fear! Let her run away madly like everyone else, it wouldn't be anything different. He could not care; he'd just ignore her and leave the room until Nadir sent her out or drugged her to sleep.

It was as Erik strode confidently towards the living room that the bravado started to come to a halt. He stopped short of the hallway and stood there, one more step and he'd be in direct view of her.

"Erik, I hear you." Nadir said from the living room.

"Who is Erik?" The girl asked softly, sounding horribly confused. _No doubt she imagines Nadir to be delusional and insane for talking to what seemed to be no one at all – _Erik thought with mild amusement_, just as insane as those of the Opera house._

"Erik, please step out, do not make me fetch it myself." Nadir sounded exhausted.

With a heavy sigh, and a firm grip on the steaming mug Erik stepped out from behind the wall and into the living room.

Christine sat there staring at him almost as if she had known that would be where he was the entire time. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. The eyelashes that framed her eyes were thick and making the color shine. Her hair was long, almost too long, and very brown, her face was heart shaped and her stare curious.

Even as her other eye remained shut and the area around it discolored, Erik knew this child was the most angelic looking creature he had ever laid eyes on. And then, to his shock her pink lips, which held a slight tremble turned up into a slight smile. _My God… _Erik thought with confusion, despite his disbelief in deities.

"I remember you," she mispronounced remember and watched carefully as the tall man approached her. "You…"

"Don't talk so much Christine," Nadir discouraged her. Erik glared at the man as he drew closer; he wanted to hear what she had to say, "You're only hurting yourself."

Christine ignored him and looked up as Erik stopped before her. The first thing she noticed was how tall he was, he was much taller than her papa, and one side of his face was masked. It was a nice mask, cleaner than anything she had ever laid eyes on, stark white and molded perfectly to his face. And then there was the side without the mask. Christine thought he was a young looking man with a straight nose and a hard mouth. His eyes were piercing and flashed as she locked hers with his. Were they green? Or were they yellow? She couldn't tell.

The next thing Christine noticed was how strong he looked, he had broad shoulders, bigger then her papa, and large hands with long fingers. The black he wore, from head to toe, made him look a bit thin, but Christine knew what thin people looked like, and thin people didn't look so strong. It was a trick of the clothing.

"Will your gaze linger all day or are you going to take the mug from my hands?" The tall man asked sharply. Christine jerked from her observations and graciously took the bread and then Nadir took the hot mug from the pale man's hand.

"Erik, could you not have made this a little cooler? Did you bring the milk to a boil?!" Nadir asked as he quickly set down the steaming mug to the wooden floor. Christine resisted a giggle.

"If you wanted it a certain way you should have done it yourself." Erik replied hotly, he had not removed his eyes from Christine who chewed frantically at the piece of bread. She tried to be sly but was caught every time she dragged her eyes up to him.

"Christine, this is Erik, he brought you here last night."

She swallowed painfully and looked up at the man again as he stared down at her without expression. His cold air chilled her, the warmth of the room suddenly gone, "Thank you, Monsieur." Her little voice sounded even smaller. Erik did not reply. Nadir and Christine waited, when he did not seem to make any movements towards saying anything she bit her lip and looked to Nadir who was glaring up at the man. "Monsieur Nadir."

He looked to her now.

"Thank you, for letting me stay here," Erik's chest tightened the slightest bit, her voice was so… innocent, so amazingly kind and soft that he felt a strange need to hear her sing once again. He had not forgotten about that voice, begging guidance towards perfection, needing direction. _His_ direction. "But… I need to go."

Nadir stood, "Christine, you're much too young, you seem to be only four or five maybe even six… little one, I cannot let you go into the street."

"You cannot keep me here." She strained now and stood to her small feet. Erik watched with interest as she seemed to be ready to make her case. _The spirit within this child!_

"Christine, please-

"No!" She exclaimed, her voice cracked and Erik flinched_. Her voice, she should not be yelling this way. She is ruining her throat with all this incessant whining! Bratty girl!_ "You must let me leave!" She continued and made to take a step but swayed.

"Christine?" Nadir questioned and stepped forward but her hand darted towards Erik who froze as her hand grabbed his sleeve tightly. And suddenly, the child was _sobbing. "_Christine! Are you in pain?" Nadir sped to her side but she drew closer to Erik who was still as stone and whose eyes were widening more and more as she stood before him _sniveling. _

"I must go!" She sobbed harder and drew nearer to Erik, standing in front of him completely and hiding her face against his leg slightly. Erik glared at the top of her head. _What was she doing! What was this! _"Oh, papa is gone… oh no…" The child's voice died painfully. And Nadir stood there, at a loss for what to do.

Erik stiffened further to the point where his bones hurt when she pulled away.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded and walked around Erik fastidiously, her little frame quick and her small feet padding along the warm floorboards. Nadir watched with great confusion as she paced before the fireplace between the two chairs, "I must leave."

Nadir shook his head sadly, "Christine-

"I have to-

"You cannot-

"Yes I can!-

"You are too young to wander alone." Nadir pleaded with her. He knew he could hold her here, but he would rather have her agree. "Christine, please, who will you go to?"

"I can make it on my own," the child answered with an adult like conviction, she turned her nose up at Nadir, dramatically and stubbornly.

_She has a knack for drama, this one, _Erik thought with irritation as Nadir argued with a child, _a child!_

"You cannot Christine, your wrist will hurt you within a few hours again and how will you care for it!"

"I will find a way!" She stomped.

"You cannot leave here in this condition-

"I can! I can! I can!-

_"You will go nowhere."_ Erik's voice sliced the tension sharply. Her teary eye turned up towards him, at a loss for words. He turned then and looked to her with a stony glare, "I am now your guardian, child. You will not," the man took a step towards her, "disobey me. You have no one." Christine's heart clenched, "and therefore you are in need of someone to care for you. Now, sit down."

Christine stared back at him tensely. Her wide sky colored iris narrowed. Her little body shook angrily.

"Sit down, Christine." The man with the smooth deep voice said again. Christine stiffly walked to the nearest chair to the left of the fireplace. Nadir stared with bewilderment. "Now," Erik said and looked to Nadir, "Nadir, Christine and I will be leaving tonight."

"Where are we going?" Her voice sounded softer now, the way it had been at first before her tantrum.

Erik addressed her again, but he did not look at her, she saw only the white of his mask, "we are going to my home." Erik spoke to Nadir, "I must go ahead of you both, to make… preparations. You will be bringing her at eleven thirty, sharp."

Nadir nodded, "yes."

"Good," Erik looked to the child who trembled in the chair as she looked to the man who now proclaimed himself her guardian. "I will see you later in the day child. Behave yourself." He commanded. Christine nodded obediently and turned her gaze to her lap as he strode from the room.

How could she possibly be leaving with that impatient man! This was crazy! He wouldn't even sing to her like papa! Christine's jaw tightened painfully.

She would escape the man first chance she got.

* * *

**Well, there you have it! I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is the first story where I can truly put my writing effort forth because it serves to enhance the story. **

**Now my darlings, I enjoyed your reviews so much that I had to continue writing it, I hope that you all review, because honestly you all have reviewed for this story with such fervor and kind words that it would kill me NOT to have them anymore haha! So - I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for calling to attention the spelling of Erik's name, I was so confused about it at first. **

**A special thank you to ALL of you, I love those reviews - seriously, I keep going to reread them. And feel free to tell me what you think you should happen - often I get spurred by the thoughts of others, so if there is something comical that you can imagine spit it out - who knows, maybe I'll love it too and I will write it in there :)!**

**Review! - Krystal :) **


	4. The Lair

**Chapter IV**

Christine was silent for most of the day as she waited to be taken to where she would live. Nadir dressed her in her old rags while profusely apologizing for not being better prepared with clothing for her but she smiled to him to reassure him it was fine.

She liked Nadir, he was very sweet to her and kept her company while she slept and ate. She only grew frustrated when he insisted that she drink water, she didn't want any more water, but to keep him pleased she did as he said.

It was as Nadir stepped outside of his home with her small hand in his that he brought up the topic of Erik.

Christine had been looking at all the white around her, the snow was everywhere. Every now and then she caught the stare of a passerby. It was always the same look, disgust or interest. Not the good kind of interest, if not the type of interest one holds on a foreign bug.

"Christine," Nadir had started as they turned a corner, the sun had already gone down and she had tightened her grip on Nadir's hand, "you're safe, nothing will happen to you child, I promise it."

"Okay," she squeaked with fear as she saw a tall man walking in their direction. The man passed them without comment and her tension eased.

"Do not be afraid of Erik," Nadir told her softly, "he is scary at first, is he not?"

Christine nodded.

"But he will never harm a child, I promise you. If you ever need to see me simply tell him, he will take you to me immediately. I will come to visit you." Nadir told her, looking down at the child who shuddered at the wind, he stooped and picked her up, smiling when she buried her face into his neck for warmth, the child was coming to trust him – he hoped. "You will be taking lessons at the Opera house, you will have everything you need Christine. I promise you, your life of hardship is over."

Christine didn't respond to him, she didn't know what she could tell him. She wanted nothing more than to have friends. She never played with anyone her age, it saddened her, so the idea that she might have classes was truly a light in this obscure future of hers. "How old is Erik?" She asked suddenly. She pulled back to stare at Nadir as he smiled. Nadie never stopped smiling except to scowl at the masked man, Erik, Christine noticed.

"Erik is very young Christine; he behaves like a grouch, does he not?"

Christine felt a giggle burst from her lips.

"Do not tell him I said that." Nadir grinned and spotted the Opera house in the distance. Its imposing figure didn't catch Christine's eyes yet, "The answer to your question is that I do not know. But from what I've glimpsed Erik is young." _But he behaves like a man who has been dead for centuries._ "Truly, I do not know. And you Christine? Exactly how old are you?"

"My papa says I am four, but said I _must_ say that to not be married away so soon."

"I see." Nadir said softly, he guessed then that the child was older. "Look, that is your new home."

Christine turned her face to what Nadir was pointing out and gasped at the beauty of the structure.

The Paris Opera House was massive. Christine had passed it numerous times with her father, dreaming of the day that she'd one day enter it. And here it was, bigger than ever before. The imposing structure was nothing short of a piece of art. She could see figures lining all the walls, sculptures stood against the walls and the arches were so tall that it seemed to her that if she stared at them long enough her neck would hurt from the strain.

"This... is my home?" Christine's small voice shuddered. "Erik lives here?"

"_Yes..._" Suddenly a voice sounded from behind her and Nadir.

Nadir turned swiftly and saw Erik pull forth from the shadows. He came forth gracefully as Nadir set Christine to the ground. She trembled horribly as Erik stopped before her and took in her shivering form. "Erik, I demand to see Christine six times a week."

"Fine." Erik said swiftly. "All preparations are made. Christine will take classes from Madame Giry in all things she needs. She will learn alongside Giry's young daughter who I believe to be good company."

Nadir nodded, "yes I've seen the young girl. She is kind, Christine and her will get along."

Erik said nothing and stared down at Christine who looked at him shyly. "Come now. We must get you inside." Erik brushed past Nadir and Christine, not looking back to see if she was following.

The man scared Christine, she turned to Nadir with a pleading gaze, "Nadir, please stay-

"Remember what I told you Christine? You must not fear him, he will not harm you. You will be fine, I will see you tomorrow," Nadir smiled at the child. His heart broke for Christine and he noticed Erik had turned; the stark white mask was all he could see beneath an archway of the opera house. "And Christine, whatever you do. Do not remove his mask."

Christine nodded, and with tears in her eyes turned her back on the kind man and went to the white mask. Her heart drummed as she approached the figure and he stared at her with what, in her mind, was hatred. Hesitantly she looked back at Nadir who nodded at her encouragingly. She turned back to Erik and followed silently, trying to keep her tears inside.

**…**

Erik could hear the child struggling to keep up behind him. Her footsteps fell so rapidly that he considered picking her up so that he wouldn't have to put up with the irregular rhythm of her small feet on the marble floors of the Opera house.

"Monsieur Erik, I cannot see you." Her small voice was cracking with fear. He stopped walking and turned around. He could see her perfectly, her eye, the one that was not bruised was wide and her mouth trembled. "Please, let me hold your cloak."

_I will not have her touch me again. _Erik quickly grabbed the lantern he had hoped to not be forced to use and lit it. Christine jumped at the sudden light and followed him quietly as he moved through the darkness like a ghost.

As they approached a dressing room he quickly turned and set the lantern upon the table. Christine watched with curiosity as the man pulled a mirror to the side. He then said quietly, "you will never mention what you have just seen."

Christine nodded sharply and followed him through a horribly long tunnel through the darkness. At one point she almost tripped but caught herself on his cloak, he stiffened and sharply told her, 'Watch where you are going.'

So that's what she did, the entire way through the tunnels, twisting and turning, and winding she watched his feet and hers, imitating the steps he took. Eventually they came to a lake of glassy water. It was more like a long dark mirror.

"There is a lake… in your home!"

Erik did not respond to the child's comments and simply stepped forward into the boat docked near the piece of ground they stood on. Christine smiled at the boat and stepped in carefully after Erik. He rowed them for a long time.

Christine kept her eyes forward, thinking solely of the fact that the beauty before her was now her home.

They approached what seemed to her to be a lair. A beautiful underground world of candles and darkness. When he stopped rowing and they hit land Christine climbed out after him and silently followed him. He led her up 4 small steps and then past a beautiful organ. She stopped to stare at it, noticing that there were pieces of paper scattered, _everywhere. _When she stood in front of it she noted that she could overlook the lake and a gate that was closing.

"Follow me." Erik ordered and she turned her attention to him. They went down another three steps and he led her down a long hallway of rock and darkness until they reached a door. "This is your room. You will come here whenever I order. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Christine whispered.

He pushed the door open and Christine gasped at the room before her. There was a huge bed in the middle of the room pushed against the wall directly in front of her. It was much too big for her. It was covered in a white bed sheet and it had curtain like fabrics hanging around it colored white too. There was a dresser to the left of the bed with different things on it like hair ribbons, candies, scents, and even a hair brush. Her eyes watered at the sight and then she noticed a huge set of doors to the right. What could be there?

"Thank you Monsieur," she whispered kindly.

"Stop calling me that." He ordered instantly.

"What shall I call you?" She asked curiously, turning her eyes up to him. The man had a hard face, and often he was on her left, making it difficult for her to actually see his face. But she didn't have to see his face to know that there was either no expression, or a frown in his features.

Erik didn't answer her; he simply turned from the room. Assuming she was to follow she went after him, hot on his heels.

He led her through the hallway and then led her to the left where there was yet another hall, this one led to his room. He explained to her that she was never to enter unless it was an emergency. He then showed her the kitchen and the bathroom which were to the right of his room, and then finally he told her that she was never to leave their home without his permission.

"Is there danger here?" She said softly. For the first time that night he stared at her with what seemed to not be anger, if not a patience she had only seen from her father.

"Yes. There are dangers. Therefore you are not to ever, ever show how to get in here. You are never to tell anyone my name. You are never to leave without my permission. And you are never to return here without me. You can get lost and then get hurt."

"I understand." She said softly and drew closer to Erik, he tensed watching the child. "Thank you… Erik."

He nodded sharply. "You are never to enter my room without knocking. You do not enter if I do not give you permission _period_. You do not touch my music, or my organ, or my instruments. Nothing. You can go to the kitchen freely, right now there is not much but I will see to it that it is filled with your childish needs. I will ask that you keep whatever noise you make down in the evenings. I will take you to your classes in the morning. You have classes at 8 tomorrow."

Christine nodded and blinked, her eyes were burning with exhaustion.

"Go to your room. In the closet you will find clothing suitable to you for the evening, the mornings, and your classes. Goodnight." He said and then stalked off towards his room.

Without hesitation Christine darted for her room with a bright smile on her face. A room… a roof over her head!

Christine shivered with delight as she stripped herself of her clothing and look into the closet all the way to the right of her circular room. She saw all the different pieces of clothing and put on her evening dress. It was a simple blue night gown. It touched her ankles and she found it beautiful.

It wasn't until she went to the mirror and saw the damage to her face that the happiness faded away. Reality came crashing down on Christine with a force she hadn't felt since… that night. The bruise at her right eye had not gone down at all and as she looked at the things on the dresser she hoped she could have found something to cover up the purple discoloration of her eye. She turned from the mirror and buried her face in the soft pillow, sobbing for her lost father, for her mother, for everything!

**…**

That night Erik sat before his organ silently writing. He did not know how long he might be able to put up with this _already_. The child was sleeping and he could not fully compose with her sleeping, if he played music now she would wake.

Erik was locked deep in his musical thoughts when a sharp sob broke the pleasant silence. At first he thought it imagined. But then as he stood and walked towards the sound of it he realized it was the child.

_Surely she weeps for her father, for her own life – _he thought to himself. He returned to his organ and struggled to block out the sounds of Christine's weeping. But try as he might he found that his grip on his writing instrument grew tighter and more forced, the tip of the damnable instrument would pierce the paper and force him to waste space. _Cease this damnable crying!_

He had enough. Slamming the paper down he swiveled his stool around to the piano opposite of the organ. He placed his fingers to the keys and did his best to drown out the cries.

His fingers skated lithely over the keys, not missing a single beat. Soon the lair was drowning in the musical notes he thought up and created. His rhythm was flawless and his technique honed and perfected. Christine could tell this from where she resided in the bedroom.

Finally he stopped playing. He sat there with his eyes shut for a few moments. Listening to the silence…

Silence…? He realized Christine's cries had died out. There was only silence and the slight echoes of the last note he played still lingering in the air. With a sigh of relief Erik stood from the piano and stalked to bedroom.

Silently pushing the door open Erik saw Christine shivering on her bed with her eyes shut. He moved closer, expecting to find her pretending to sleep but realized the child was in a deep state of slumber.

Aggravated Erik went to the side of the bed farthest from Christine, and rather then pick her up and put her under the covers - Erik took the bed sheet and simply pulled it off the mattress and onto her. He watched to ensure that the bed sheet stopped her shivering, and when he it did he still found himself lingering there to ensure she was not cold.

_Why was it that I could not let you go? Why did I not just let you go when Nadir proposed the orphanage? I should not have cared for what happened to you, I should have let life treat you as it would. It shouldn't matter to me! But how your voice had infested my thought! How was I to let go of that, the need to posses that voice and tune it to perfection. And what a great singer you _will_ be. I will perfect you…_

With that, Erik turned from the room and furiously wrote at his piano, songs that Christine would master, songs written specifically for her voice. And what a voice it would become!

* * *

**Yay! Thank you all for the reviews, I had to update as fast as possible because of your responses. I hope this chapter was pleasing :) Also - I know a few of you were wondering about Erik's age, in my head he is not very old because since this is a romance story and Christine will get older I thought about the age difference. He is young but like Nadir said, he acts like a grouch. As Christine ages - so does Erik - which will lead us into the more mature aspects of their life without having a creepy age difference haha!**

**Please review!**


	5. First Day

Chapter V

Christine woke with a start to the sound of an organ playing. She did not know where the sound came from but assumed that it was Erik. The song was very messy, it seemed as if he were putting it together even to her ears. A note would be played, over and over – hammering itself out and then another and then a repeat. Then there would be silence.

Christine dressed simply when she rose from the bed. She wore the ballet uniform that was required of her, and the tight fitting one-piece with the opaque stockings. She slipped on the different array of ballet shoes that Erik had gotten for her until she found the perfect fit.

Her hair was a mess and she doubted she would have the time to really clean out the tangles. She didn't even know how to really do it. So Christine to a ribbon and tied it horribly in her hair so that it was a pony tail.

She left the room quickly and eagerly found Erik sitting at the Organ. He was writing something down and he was writing it _very _quickly, as if in a fever. The man took no notice of her as she climbed up the three short steps and waited patiently.

Christine guessed that Erik's favorite color was black. Once again he was wearing it. It seemed to be the same outfit from the night before, did he even sleep? She didn't know, but she noticed that he was writing a lot off notes on a piece of paper and his limbs were all tense until he would touch the organ. Then it seemed to leave his body, only to return when he stopped to jot something on the paper. It was as she coughed slightly that he whirled around to face the intruder. Upon finding Christine his eyes narrowed. "I see you have woken before you have to."

"Is that bad?" She asked softly.

He turned to face her completely now and looked down at her clothing, she was shivering wildly, "You will freeze down here," he would have to remember to get her a cloak of some sort. And her hair was a tousled mess. Her attempts at a pony tail were admirable but she had failed nonetheless. The brown curls still fell around her face with a crazed fashion. He then noticed that her shoes were not tied. "You did not tie your slippers."

"I do not know how to." She murmured with a blush and turned her face away.

"Come." He commanded. Christine gracefully went to his side and he bent to tie the shoes, making sure to never touch her. Her eyes watched his fingers as they skillfully tied moved the ribbons here and there and finally tightened the pieces.

When he finished he went gracefully to the boat. She climbed in after him and watched him as he rowed them back the way they had come the night before.

"What will I learn?" She asked softly. The rocking motions of the boat made her sway slightly and she noticed Erik did not turn to look back at her when she spoke, he kept his eyes ahead.

"You will learn ballet, and writing, literature, I will teach you mathematics since those fools who think they run the opera couldn't teach mathematics to save their own lives."

Christine tilted her head up at the curious man, "why would they need to save their lives?"

When they made it to the dressing room she noticed that there was a woman there. The woman was tall with black hair and a strong stare. The woman also had a small blonde child beside her, but they didn't see Christine or Erik. "Why can they not see us?"

The shadow beside her answered easily with a silky voice, "The mirror works only one way. They will see us only when he step forth, otherwise they will see nothing. But we will always be able to see them."

Christine pondered that for a while as they stood there.

"Erik?" She looked to the shadow beside her with a panic suddenly, "Please don't make me go-

"Do not start this now." He snapped at her. "You will be taking your classes."

Christine bit her lip and didn't argue. He pushed at the wall and suddenly the mirror moved away. Christine stepped forward into the room, noticing that Erik lingered behind her. The young girl with blonde hair looked to Christine with surprise, and before her mother could open her mouth the young girl shrieked with delight.

"Oh! Christine! You must be Christine! Christine we will be friends, will we not?!" The blonde girl took Christine's thin hands in her own and grinned at her.

The first thing Christine noticed about the girl was how much prettier she looked. Her eyes were bright blue and her hair was shockingly blonde, but just as curly and messy as Christine's, this made her feel a bit giddy, someone she could relate to perhaps? And the girl was not half as skinny as Christine.

"I am Meg Giry," the young girl grinned, "And you are Christine!"

"Yes…" Christine whispered softly.

The first thing that Meg had noticed about the girl was the horrible bruising on her eye. She tried her best to not stare but was finding it impossible. She thought Christine to still be much prettier then herself. And much quieter too, but she forgave her for her quiet attitude because she knew that soon they would be the best of friends.

"Good morning, young Christine." The taller woman said. She held a stick in her hands stiffly and Christine thought for a moment, _she is the lady version of Erik._

"Good morning Madame," Christine curtsied and smiled at the woman.

"Madame Giry," Erik said coming from the mirror, Christine looked and noticed he seemed to be hidden there, "I will be here to pick up Christine at seven."

"Of course." Madame Giry replied and strode from the room, Meg followed hot on her mother's heels with a grin.

And Christine, looked to where Erik was and saw him there, blending into the darkness of the entrance to their home. "Goodbye Erik." She said gently and skipped off after Meg and Madame Giry.

Behind her she heard a whispered, "Goodbye Christine."

…

"Christine, _that face_." Carlotta teased with a laugh. Christine had been enduring this for the past ten minutes in silence, sitting quietly while Madame Giry instructed two girls on how to do a proper leap without making too much sound. Carlotta had spotted Christine as soon as she made her entrance, she had laughed every time Christine fell. The girl was much too skinny and much too weak to hold herself en Pointe. Madame Giry had instructed Christine to try to follow as best as she could without stressing herself out, eventually her legs would get used to it she told her.

"Did someone hit you for something?" Carlotta continued, running her deep brown eyes over the bruise on the girls face, then she swept her red hair behind her shoulder and giggled at the girl before her. Christine bit her lip and played with the ribbons of her shoes quietly. "Perhaps for being so ugly in the first place?"

Christine looked away with a blush. She wanted to be away from here, perhaps in her room, perhaps with Nadir, perhaps dead.

"Carlotta, have you nothing better to do?" Meg Giry hissed coming from her mother's side disobediently, "Leave her alone or I will thrash you!"

"Meg, oh, how funny, is she your little rodent friend now? Have you forgotten that she does not belong here; she is not built for ballet just as you are not built for singing. She does not belong here!"

"That's not for you to decide," Meg snapped. Christine took Meg's hand and led her away from Carlotta who snickered at Christine's thin figure. "You should have let me whack her."

"Do not argue with that girl, she is stupid." Christine murmured with tears in her eyes. "I am not a dancer, I am a singer." She said softly. "This is not what I was meant for, she is right."

"No one can sing better then Carlotta, Christine," Meg told her softly behind the secrecy of the stage curtains. "All who have tried have failed. But that gives her no right to be so crude."

Christine nodded, accepting this and then letting Meg lead her back to the stage. They practiced to the point of exhaustion, and finally it was time to leave. Christine was more than tired by the time seven came. Meg Giry led her to the mirror of the room and waited with her until Erik came.

…

Erik was at a loss for words when he reached the mirror. What he saw was Meg Giry consoling Christine who was sobbing horribly into her hands, covering her face as if though it were a horror to the world.

"Christine you will get better! Do not worry!" Meg hugged the young girl with a smile. "And Carlotta is an idiot. She looks like a toad. You look pretty even with your bruise."

This sent Christine into a fit of sobs again and Erik had enough. He pulled the mirror aside with annoyance and watched as Meg bid Christine farewell and left the room quickly, seemingly afraid of the masked man. Christine walked past Erik silently. Seemingly ignoring him and trying to stifle her sobs.

_She seems to be annoyed at me. She has yet to acknowledge my presence._

With amusement he closed the mirror quietly and led her through the tunnels. He could feel the tension in the caves as he moved, all steaming from the young girl behind him. He dared to ask, "How were your classes?"

She answered with a dramatically forced voice, "My classes were horrid."

"And why were they so horrid?"

"Because you made me go!" She cried out suddenly. He whirled and looked down at the little steaming girl, "I didn't want to go! And because of you Carlotta made fun of me! I couldn't dance! I cannot dance! I sing! That's what papa always wanted for me! I am not Meg! I am ugly Christine – and now everyone knows it because of Carlotta and Erik!"

His eyes widened at her audacity. First he was in disbelief, how could she think herself ugly when she was so clearly not. That little demon Carlotta is ugly; he is ugly, but not Christine. And yet she stood there and proclaimed it as though it were the most truthful thing in the world. And then came his own outrage, "You will do as I tell you until I see fit. You do not speak to me that way ever again. And if you're as much of a singer as you claim then sing! Prove them wrong instead of sniveling before me as if I will give you pity - I will give you nothing!"

Christine stood there silently. Her body felt cold and her eyes stung. Furthermore her lips trembled her chest ached. She wanted to rest, she needed to sleep. Christine went past him without a word and jumped into the boat gracelessly. Erik balled his fist and sighed heavily before turning to the boat and rowing them farther from the dressing room.

When Christine and Erik reached what she now labeled, The Alter, she went up the steps, past the organ and the sheets of music, down the three steps and to the left and down the cave hallway. She went to her bedroom slammed the door shut so that the sound echoed throughout the entire lair.

From the boat where Erik had remained he listened with annoyance as Christine sobbed madly. Even as he tried to compose he found it almost impossible. He hoped tomorrow was better, or he might have to pay Carlotta a visit for sending Christine to him in tears. He despised the sight of tears.

* * *

**Hi guys and girls! I'm so happy with the amount of reviews and the responses themselves that I once again had to update right away. Please review as you've doing.**

**By the way haha I love the interest in Erik's age. I am reluctant to pick a specific number because since it IS a romance story I don't want this to be some creepy pedophile type of thing, that's just not going to happen. Christine needs to mature - and with her getting older Erik must be an age that to me is logical without him being like... 60 and Christine being 20. So just know that Erik is young. He's not 11 or something like that but Erik is young at THIS point in the story. :) I hope that satisfies you all :) **

**Review my angels!**


	6. Raoul de Chagny

**Chapter VI**

The next few days went by smoothly for Christine in her classes. She was an intelligent girl, everyone could see that. She didn't know things instantly, and she didn't understand them quickly either, but her inquisitive nature was what made her intelligent. And her ability to put two and two together and form ideas or answers that other student's couldn't.

Her life with Erik was going by smoothly as well, she discovered that he had a routine in which he picked her up from school, ordered her to eat something, and then he would compose, retire to his room, and return to play until she fell asleep, and in the morning she would find him still composing. She wondered if he ever slept, she knew he had to at some point… Maybe when she was at school?

It was on her fourth day of the second week that Carlotta challenged Christine's singing abilities after hearing Meg beg Christine to sing.

"I suppose if you're frightened it is best to keep that gross little mouth of yours shut," Carlotta teased Christine, whose bruising had gone down. The girl glared at Carlotta with a look that could send a cat running in the opposite direction. But in Christine's eyes Carlotta was a monster, not an adorable animal.

Remembering Erik's words she asked Carlotta, "what song do you wish me to sing?"

"Do you know any songs – at all?"

"I know those that my father taught me." Christine said with a hint of sadness in her voice, Carlotta dismissed it.

"Well, how does this sound, we will do scales. Whoever can hit the highest note – wins." The little girl grinned evilly at Christine.

"Fine." Christine stared at Carlotta with a new-found confidence. Carlotta cleared her throat and placed her small hands on her hips and started with a simple note. She looked to Christine who followed the note with a higher one. Carlotta smiled again and went to a higher note. Christine did the same with little struggle.

**…**

What in the world was she doing?

Erik watched from the shadows of Box 5 as little Christine dared to challenge Carlotta to… a singing match? He was not sure of what this was but he was very interested nonetheless. He watched as Christine followed along with little difficulty as Carlotta approached the harder notes. He leaned forward as Christine cleared her throat and pulled off one of the notes flawlessly. A small grin was working its way to the surface of his lips.

_What a range,_ he thought; _the possibilities are endless with a voice like hers. So angelic, so pure, and my God Carlotta's voice is like a shrieking puppet, is there no end to this? _

Christine's voice was doing wondrous things to his mind. He was thinking of songs already that he would have her sing today when he brought her back to his home. There were songs that he had written and hidden from the word in fear that someone like Carlotta would get the part. Certainly she was much too young, but nonetheless they were created as pieces of art, and he would not have them soiled by talentless 'singers'.

He watched with tension as Carlotta's screech pierced the air, the girls shrank back away as the silly girl held out the note longer then necessary and finally stopped, gasping for breath as she stared at Christine expectantly. Everyone was watching Christine.

Then, in fascination, he watched Christine start off with a low note, and slowly, a rush seemed to fill her vocal chords as she raised her voice, as if to him, and let out the most amazing sound he had ever heard. It made his eyes close and goosebumps rushed to the surface of his skin.

But then to his horror, her voice _cracked_. Laughter filled the auditorium and Christine fled from the stage and to the dressing room. Easily Erik skated along the hallways and of the Opera and then to the dressing room where he found the little girl murmuring into her hands.

"I'm so silly, of course no one can surpass Carlotta, she is Carlotta!" She whispered horribly, "Oh, Papa – I should have died with you."

_"Do not ever say that again." _

Christine looked up to the doorway with shock as Erik stood there with a glare on his face. She trembled and nodded obediently.

"You are a fantastic singer, a natural." He ghosted over to her side and looked at her in the mirror, she was trembling, but he had grown to recognize it was not because of him, but out of anger at Carlotta. The young girl didn't seem to fear him – it was something he still did not understand. "I will ensure that you surpass even the most beautiful of singers in this opera. I will not have the stupidities of that _creature_," Christine giggled, realizing he was speaking of Carlotta, "soil all the talent you posses. I will not have that creature ruin music."

"How, Erik?" Her sweet blue eyes raised themselves to his. He stared down at her with curiosity, "What will I do?"

"I will train you." He stated firmly, "you have the talent, but not the technique. You lack proper breathing, you don't know how to hold out a note without stressing your vocal chords, and I don't ever want to hear that atrocious coughing again."

She nodded at him.

"Come, it is time to begin."

**…**

For three hours Erik tested her vocal skills. He was impressed to see that the girl had the knack to handle his criticisms.

"No, no, no, what is this!" He threw at her once when he noticed her slouching against the piano trying to hit a note, she jumped and stared at him with surprise, "what is that?"

"What is what?"

"What is this slouching, stand up straight girl, and do not make me repeat it." He glared at her sharply, "What in the world would make you think that is proper posture of a singer."

"That's what Carlotta does-

"You are not Carlotta, you are Christine Daae. Do you understand me?" He glared at her sharply, she nodded with understanding, "I will not have you compare yourself to people like her. Now, stand up straight, and breathe from here," he pointed to her diaphragm, "I do not want to see your chest moving more then it must, and do not try to be coy, for I will know."

Christine nodded and did as instructed. Her voice soared through the lair and Erik pushed her to the brink until he noticed the exhaustion in her voice. Finally he stopped playing and simply sat there with his eyes closed. Never in all his years did he think he would hear something with so much potential… he could see her being the best soprano of France, hitting notes Carlotta could only dream of.

"Erik, did I do good?" She whispered.

"Well, you did very well, Christine." He opened his eyes and noticed a kind smile on her face. "Now you may rest, tomorrow we will do this again. I do not want to see you singing if it is not here. No more stressing of your chords, we will not have you damage yourself in an attempt to prove Carlotta's singing disastrous. We know it is disastrous, and soon so shall the rest of the world."

He sent Christine to bed in a flurry, he needed her to rest. He commanded that she limit how much she speaks and then went off into editing songs so that they may fit exactly the way he had heard them, songs that he had fixed so that someone with less range could sing them, so that he may hear them sung. But only Christine could sing them the way they were intended.

She was the canvas he needed to bring his artwork to life, but she was also the color of the paint itself. She was everything his music yearned for.

Erik wrote intensely into the night, dusting off papers and pressing keys he had not pressed in a long time. Erik's music filled the cavern that night. Christine's _voice_ was his from that night forward.

Months passed with endless practice from Christine and Erik. She had come to learn that Erik was a grand composer and that his music was the most beautiful she had ever heard. Her favorite composition by the masked man was titled, Think of Me.

It reminded her so much of her father that it almost made her weep when they rehearsed it. Erik noticed the connection instantly but urged her with nods to continue singing, she would, and she would do so-so beautifully.

Christine had come to recognize that Erik himself had a very beautiful speaking voice. She had never heard him sing, but his voice was like music itself. Often she found herself awake at night just listening to him play. Erik had come to learn about Christine that she had the most gorgeous blue eyes he had ever laid eyes on, and that when she was hiding something she avoided looking at him, and when she was eager to sing she looked at him with an expectant grin, as if asking, 'well, where's the other music?'

Christine was also very captivated by his music which cause him on many occasions to almost smile. He was so amazing at the piano that she was inclined to ask him for listens and on one evening gathered the courage to did so.

"Erik, might you teach me to play like you?" She asked as he composed and wrote a few things down. She waited for a few moments, when he finally acknowledged her presence she was forced to repeat the question. "Might you teach me to play the piano?"

"Absolutely not," he told her simply, "your sole focus shall be music."

"But I want to learn how to play piano. I can do both you know. I'm not an absolute idiot."

"I know that very well, little Christine," she blushed at the little nickname, "but I refuse to have your focus shifted to other subject matters when they should be on music. The only reason you are still in Ballet is because I wish to get you noticed long enough to have you debut some time in the distant future."

"But Erik-

"No more of this Christine." He said with a calm tone so final that it struck her as arrogant. It infuriated her.

"I want to see my fathers grave." She said simply to him, "I wish to pray."

"Your father does not have a grave," he reminded her, turning to look at the small girl with the inquisitive blue eyes, "I fear that if you wish to pray you will have to go to a church. And as I will not go inside with you I might perhaps wait outside or ask Nadir to take you. Which do you prefer?"

"I wish a grave for my father." And she stomped away angrily.

The next few weeks passed by without mention of her fathers grave though he could see it was weighing heavy on her mind. Christine found herself constantly practicing with Erik or dancing in class. It was on one evening when she was practicing Ballet that she saw a young boy enter with another and a grown man.

The two young boys were playfully hitting each other and she noticed that all the other girls had stopped dancing to also look, they were all giggling like fools, she rolled her eyes.

Madame Giry instructed them to continue practicing and they did so. Christine ignored the boys as they climbed up on the stage with their father.

Christine's thoughts were on her father. She wished he was still here, but there was a conflict in her heart as she knew this meant that her silent guardian Erik, wouldn't be her care taker. And she did in fact come to care for Erik. He was a strange, cold man but she appreciated his protective nature.

Christine slipped on her ribbons and ignored Carlotta's snickers as she attempted to stand, she was about to slip again but she felt a hand wrap around her forearm. When she looked up to see who it was she realized it was one of the boys.

"Thank you," she muttered at him as he smiled at her. He had sparkly hazel eyes and a beautiful grin on his face. Christine blushed, not knowing why, and looked away from his pretty blonde hair.

"I'm Raoul," the boy said, jumping in front of her so that she might look at him again.

"I am Christine Daae." Her voice quivered as he smiled that beautiful smile once again. "It is nice to meet you."

"Christine, what a pretty name. And Daae? I used to watch your father play, whatever happened to him?" The boy asked with interest. Christine turned her face away and and contained a shudder.

"My father passed."

Raoul was silent for a moment, "forgive me for being so imprudent. I meant no offense."

She smiled then, the boy was a pleasant change from the one male in her life who _never_ apologized for anything, Erik, and the one who apologized for _everything_, Nadir. "It's quite alright."

"Christine, would you like to play with my brother and I? That fool over there," he pointed out his brother who was taller and had darker hair with green eyes, "that's him, Philippe. We are going to go to church tonight for mass but we never really listen."

"What do you do then?" She asked with confusion, not noticing the stares of her female classmates.

"We sit there mocking the priest."

"That's horrid!" Christine gasped, but then broke out into laughter as Raoul grinned devilishly back at her.

She stared at Raoul with sudden solemnity, "you do not know me and yet you ask me to go to mass with you as if we've been long time friends."

"We have been long time friends, it's been at least – five minutes now since we've become friends. That's a long time." He laughed. "Come now, your answer?"

Christine trembled, "I-I would have to ask my…" father? Master? Trainer? "My guardian." He nodded at her with understanding.

"You will meet as at the church three blocks over, simply exit the Opera house through the main door and turn right, follow the streets and you will find yourself at the church. The mass meeting will be at nine, do whatever you have to do," with that and a smile – Raoul waved as he went over and told his brother of the possible addition to their little group. Christine rubbed her temples, what had she gotten herself into.

Oh, wait, that's right! She hadn't!

"Stupid boys." She hissed and went back to practicing under the watchful eye of Madam Giry.

**…**

"Absolutely not." Erik stated firmly as he composed feverishly.

"Erik I only wish to play with friends a while! I never get to do anything with anyone!" She pleaded with him. She stared at the white side of his mask with distaste and went around to the other side, hoping he might catch her in his peripheral vision. "Erik!"

"I told you no Christine, and that is final. Now, if you have anything to say that is related to your voice and my music than feel free to speak, but if you wish to persist on the same matter then you might as well forget it."

"Erik I need friends!"

"You have a friend, Meg Giry."

"But Raoul wants me to join him tonight!"

"There is no reason why a young boy should meet with a young girl at night to 'play.'" He stated simply, "It is improper."

"Whenever have you cared for propriety? You live in a cave!"

He turned fiercely and glared at her. "You will _not_ be meeting with that boy, I do not know who he is and I do not care to find out. That is final."

Christine stomped away from Erik and to her room. Her patience with this man was growing thin. She was allowed nothing except foods fit for her vocal chords, water, and the occasional tea, and then music. That was all. She hadn't seen the light of day for more then a few hours when she was above ground in the opera house. But she had not stepped out for more then an hour at most in too long. Tonight Erik would not be obeyed.

Christine plotted how it was that she was going to get out of here. She figured the lake would be the easiest way, from there she could simply take the boat. But she knew she was much too weak. She could swim… that seemed like the most viable option.

She waited until she heard Erik go into his bedroom, she knew he would be retiring for some time. Without another thought Christine ran silently towards the lake and pressed her toe to the water. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, the water was so cold.

_This is not a good idea, _she thought to herself with a shiver as she stepped in to the knees. All she would have to do is swim straight and then she would reach the spiraling stairs. _Once above ground I can dry myself off with something... and change into one of the outfits there._

Without another hesitating thought she sank up to her neck and quietly pushed through the horrible cold it wasn't until she was halfway through the water and weakly on her toes to keep from sinking in completely that she heard a sound coming from the lair, she turned her head slowly and saw Erik's figure making its way out. _What was he doing out?! He wasn't supposed to be out. I should have known that he could hear everything! _He stalked towards the shadows of her bedroom and she took this opportunity to quickly turn around and make her way towards the exit. But as she did so she lost her footing and sank.

Instantly she started screaming under the water but all that happened was her lungs disposed of the air and bubbles rose. She felt herself sinking as more oxygen left her lungs and more water filled them. She started swimming upwards, or trying to, but she couldn't tell which way was up! She felt her hands come into contact with something metal, was this the gate?! It was too late for her to know as something grasped her ankle tightly to an almost painful point. She shrieked the last bit of oxygen from her system as she was dragged _deeper_ into the water. She sucked in a lungful of water before sinking into the darkness of it all.

* * *

**SO! What did you think? Christine is drowning and it seems Erik has no idea! o_o **

**SO, review please, last time I thought I might have done something wrong because it didn't seem I received as many reviews but I thought - hey maybe there is just not much to say about that chapter, so I hope there are things to say about this one. As you can see I sped the timeline up a bit :) **

**Review! **


	7. Princess

**Chapter VII**

Erik's powerful legs pushed against the water violently as he swept Christine up with him towards the surface. He had never felt a body as limp and weightless as hers was at that very moment. The only thing he could think of at that very moment was getting her out of the freezing water and to the safety of the candle light where he might attempt to warm her ice cold skin. He spluttered water as he reached the surface and pulled her with him towards the safety of the rocky floor.

Erik lay her limp body down on the rock with a gasp for air and began pushing her hair from her tiny face.

"What have you done, Christine?" He rasped, his voiced sounded foreign even in his own ears. And there was a horrible rushing sound in them too. Taking a deep breath he placed both his hands above her chest and started to push, trying to not crack her ribs with the force he exerted.

He needed to call Nadir, Nadir would know what to do best but this was the best he could do without letting her die this very moment.

"Christine, open your eyes," Erik commanded fiercely as he stole glances at the young girls face while trying to remain calm and perform the tasks necessary to get the water out of her system. Her pale form was unmoving beneath his figure and he started to panic when he noticed the blue coloring to her lips.

_She can not die, this is an injustice! She will not die, not_ tonight_, _tomorrow_, not while _I_ live! _Erik decided suddenly.

He pushed at her chest with more fervor. "Wake up," he huffed, "do _not_ disobey me, girl."

Then suddenly, to his relief Christine's neck lurched forward and water came spewing from her lips weakly, dribbling out the corners of her blue lips as he pushed her to the side so that she might not swallow it back down.

"Breathe," he instructed the young girl carefully as she coughed violently and quaked. She gasped for air and gagged as more water forced its way out of her system. Erik only placed his hand on her back and pulled her hair away from her face as she struggled to catch her breath.

**…**

Christine didn't know what to think as she turned her blurry and panicked gaze to Erik. His mask was still in place and try as she might to read his expression she could not fathom what it was that he was thinking. Christine could only tremble on her hands and knees as Erik sat beside her with his stony façade of emptiness and omnipotence.

He had pulled her out of the water, and not only that but he had _saved_ her by getting the water out of her system. A sense of shame and adoration overcame Christine as her eyes roamed his wet face. He had sacrificed himself for her.

Christine vowed to never again dismiss Erik's commands from that moment on. She hated that he looked like this before her now with his black hair falling all over his forehead and partially covering his eyes, his skin was glossed from the water and not only that but his lips seemed to be shivering the tiniest bit. She knew what Erik was supposed to look like, and his countenance had been disturbed because of her foolishness.

Even his eyes seemed a little shaken, he kept them on her face as if expecting her to faint at any moment, and as his hair partially covered them she realized they seemed to be shining more so that they were partially covered.

"Erik," she croaked horribly and struggled to hold back her tears. As they presented themselves Christine threw herself at the man she now adored for saving her from a most unfortunate end. Erik stiffened as her arms came around his neck and she buried her cold face in the equally cold skin of his neck. "I'm so sorry, I'm so, so-

"Do not speak, you must rest." Erik said in his calmest voice, it soothed her and her tremors eased to shivers as he held pulled himself to his feet, and carried Christine wordlessly to her bedroom.

Inside Erik felt that he might have a panic attack. How odd that she would willingly hug him.

Once there Erik set her on the chair before the mirror and got a towel. He pulled it over her frame and told her to dress herself warmly and that he would return when she was done. Christine sniffled and did as commanded, calling him back softly when she was done.

"Get in bed; I must fetch Nadir to ensure that you are alright."

"Erik don not tell Nadir," she begged him as he came around to her side of the bed, he stared at her stonily, "he will be so angry with me."

He snapped, "do you think he does not have a reason to be?" Christine became instantly silent, "I specifically told you no. I told you that I do not wish to see you around that Raoul boy and in all your childish spite you go against my commands and throw yourself into the lake. What did you think you were going to do? _Swim_ out of here?"

She sniffled and looked down at her fingers as they trembled, "I had hoped to return without you noticing."

Erik grew silent at this and watched her for a moment before sighing impatiently and taking a seat on the chair, he pulled it closer to her side and waited for her to turn her gaze on him. When she did he held them for a long time, she was unable to look away, "Christine, I know when you're presence is missing instantly. You are not as careful as you think you are."

Christine's lower lip trembled and she looked away, then back to him, "I'm sorry Erik."

He said nothing to her and stiffened as her hand darted out and grasped his firmly, almost feverishly.

"I am," she begged him to understand, her eyes widened as if though that might help him look into the truth of the matter, "I never wanted to hurt anyone."

"You did not hurt anyone but yourself." He reminded her sharply. "How stupid could you be? All for that Raoul de Chagny, I am tempted to thrash him –

"He didn't make me do it." She whispered. Her small frame shivered now and she removed her hands from his. The warmth was gone.

"No but he lured you into the false belief that this was alright to do, did he not?" Erik's shimmering eyes pierced through her and she shook her head no. "How could you be so dense? How does it occur to you to simply swim across a lake for someone you do not even know-

"He's my friend-

"No he is not," Erik stated, Christine stared in shock, "if he were your friend he would not tell you to do stupid things."

"All he told me was to do whatever necessary to make sure I could see him so that was what I did."

"I do not want you around the boy, are we understood?" Erik asked her quietly. She nodded firmly. "He almost got you killed tonight; your _naivety_ almost got you killed tonight. He will ruin all that we work towards by distracting you with immature promises."

Christine didn't really comprehend what Erik told her but she trusted him completely and simply agreed silently. "I'm sorry Erik… I trust you." She voiced softly and took his hands in hers again, looking up at him softly, "I wouldn't ever wish to endanger you, or myself. I will stay away from Raoul."

Inside Erik felt his heart flare up for her infallible trust. _I will construct the perfect world for her, _he promised silently, _I will ensure that no one harms her, that all her needs are met before she needs them, that everything she could possibly want is given to her… I will keep you safe Christine. And anyone who tries to endanger you, purposefully or not, will pay severely for destroying the innocence that makes you so perfectly different from my own monstrous soul. _

"Rest now, Christine," Erik carefully bent over her figure, "I shall return with something to help you sleep, and with the company of Nadir."

Christine sighed heavily and nodded.

**…**

"She dared to do what?" Nadir gasped when he came to the cave after receiving word from Madame Giry that Erik needed him to go to the lair. He had arrived hastily and instantly found Erik at the mouth of the entrance with a sour expression on his face.

Erik explained to him that he had retired for some time only to hear footsteps, and when he came out he found Christine trashing and sinking into the lake.

"I cannot believe that she would be capable of such foolishness," Nadir whispered with shock.

"Well, she is capable of it. All because of that _Raoul de Chagny_." Erik's eyes narrowed as they approached the hall to Christine's room. Nadir rubbed his face with exhaustion. "I have a severe distaste for that boy and his interest in Christine. He will not be allowed her company."

"Why do you blame the boy?"

"Christine expressed interest in going to church with him for mass. I told her that she was not allowed to go." He took in Nadirs bemused expression, "I will not have her running around with boys. I do not know if his intentions were as pure as Christine would like to believe but I will not run the risk. And it is improper any way."

Nadir agreed, "You are right in this. There is no reason why a girl of perhaps 6 should be running around at night without her guardian."

When they opened Christine's door Erik found that she was sleeping. She looked adorable within the huge bed. Quietly he approached her and sat on the edge of the bed at her side. It dipped silently with his weight

"Christine, wake up. Nadir is here to examine you and ensure that you are in proper health." His voice, smooth and silky, woke Christine from her slumber gently. She looked up at the tall man towering over her sleeping form with confusion, his strange amber green eyes were alight with some type of humor, and then her eyes settled on Nadir, whose expression disturbed whatever control she had left. She couldn't stand what she saw within the depth of his large brown eyes.

He looked at her with sadness and almost… disappointment. She tried hard to suck in a cry and managed, she was proud of herself for this. Nadir approached her as Erik moved to the shadows and he touched her forehead gently. "How are you feeling, Christine?"

"I feel okay," she murmured gently, sitting up weakly and wincing at her sore joints.

"You're very lucky that Erik found you."

"I know." She murmured weakly.

"Okay, no more talking, let me get this over with so that you may go back to sleep. You sound hoarse."

Nadir checked to ensure she didn't have any broken bones or anything along those lines, he examined her small skull for bruises or bumps but found nothing of the sort. He told Erik that he recommended that Christine get a bit of rest for the rest of the night and perhaps that she rest the next day. When she told him that she wished to get back to classes he assured her that this too would be fine but for her mental comfort she should stay home, she disagreed and Erik agreed that she should get back to her normal activities as soon as she is able.

Nadir left Christine with a kiss to the forehead and a hug, Christine apologized weakly to him for disturbing his night but he assured her that making sure she was safe was nothing he minded.

Erik stayed with Christine while Nadir found his way out.

He watched her as she struggled to sleep, every time her eyes would start to close they would burst open again and she would say his name gently, ensuring he was within the dark room. Every time she would reach out and catch his hand in her own, squeezing it tightly.

"Are you dreaming bad things?" He asked her cautiously.

"I dream that I sink every time," her voice was trembling, "and you do not save me."

Erik moved closer to her and drew his face closely so that she would hear him, silkily he reassured her, "I would save you every time Christine. I will not let harm befall you," he paused, then added in a dark voice, "or do you not trust me?"

"I trust you Erik." She turned and clutched his hand tightly like a teddy bear under her chin. "Please stay. I fear sleep will not come tonight if you are not here."

"Yes." Erik said nothing else as she clutched his hand to her face and started to drift into sleep. He watched her in the dark for some time, noting the way she squeezed his hand every once in a while as if though ensuring that he had remained – even in her sleep.

It was sometime in the night, when all was silent and the only thing sound was their breathing as Erik slept lightly on the chair and Christine on the bed, that he woke with a start at the sound of her whimpering.

"Oh, papa why could I not…?" She didn't finish as she moaned and twisted away from Erik's hand. A sudden coldness overtook the flesh of his hand where her grasp had once been. He sat on the bed and placed a gently hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Christine, it is only a dream." He shook her lightly, "it's nothing."

In the dark he watched her blue eyes open to the blackness around her, wide and confused. She could not see him but he could see her, years of being in the dark did amazing things to his eyesight. She was not as clear as the day, but she was still visible to him.

"_Mon ange_, is that you?"

Erik stiffened at the title. _Ange? Angel, she thinks me an angel? Truly the eyes of a child are full of deceitful lies, how can I be an angel when I live in a cave deeper then hell with a face that would rival any demon? Has she lost her mind?_

"I am no angel," he murmured, "It is only Erik."

Christine frowned and sat up, looking to where she believed his musical voice to be. She heard sadness in his tone, she didn't like this. _'Only Erik'_ he had said, as if that were some insignificant thing to be. "_Mon ange, _why do you sound so sad?"

"Stop calling me that Christine." His voice became challenging now. She sensed his discomfort, "I am _Erik_."

"That's why… you're my Erik," _Her_ Erik, she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and felt for his arm. When she found it she threw herself into him, embracing him tightly and closing her eyes with her cheek rested against his shoulder. Erik sat stiffly, unsure of what to do.

She was _embracing_ him. In all his years Erik had never imagined that someone would… embrace him! He could still remember being prodded with a stick and being touch behind the safety of gloves because others feared that his face was somehow the cause of some foreign contamination. And here was this girl, this young girl who had all the right in the world to fear him, who didn't even question him about the mask at all! Embracing him! Erik's heart stiffened and twisted in his chest as the burning flared up in his chest once more. Then against all belief's he'd held once Erik embraced Christine gently.

Unsurely at first, this was never something that had happened to him, and she was so small he feared he might break her if he embraced her any tighter, and he wasn't embracing her tightly at all...

S_he is the princess of this darkness place... _Erik was unsure if he meant his soul or his home.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, but when she did - the last words on her tongue were single-handedly the most beautiful thing he had ever had the honor of being called, "_Mon ange…"_

Tomorrow Erik would have words with de Chagny.

* * *

**_So finally _****we have Erik and Christine being pleasant with one another, not only that but we have Christine giving Erik the title (and position?) of guardian her ****_ange. _**

**Now, just to point this out because I felt it was time, I would like to RESTATE that I did not skip YEARS ahead, i only skipped a few months, maybe three or five? And also Christine's age and Erik's age I left vague in order to give the reader more freedom to envision them themselves, all I said was that Christine (as speculated by Nadir) is perhaps six years old, and Erik is young, I will say that he is no more then 22 years old. But as the story progresses naturally he will age. I always thought that Erik seemed a bit like an old soul, so even if he were say... 17 he would behave like the old grouch he naturally is. So, don't worry about their ages, when the romance comes they will both be of appropriate ages, okay? haha, if I were to just COME OUT and give you every detail it wouldn't be so much of a story, now would it?**

**Not only that but no, Raoul is not in love with Christine (yet?) he is just as young as she is, she was not going out on a date. They are simply wild children.**

** So, I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter :) Review and tell me what you think Erik thinks of this new title and position and what you think he should do next? :) **


	8. The Opera Ghost

**Chapter VIII**

The morning after Christine almost drowned was spent in anxiety as she rehearsed for the upcoming performance. She felt unsure of all of her steps even though she had caught on and knew them by heart.

But that's not what caused her anxiety. What caused her anxiety was the fact that Raoul de Chagny was sitting with his father in the audience seats, watching her with a frown on his face as the girls rehearsed. The entire auditorium was empty except for the performers and de Chagny's father and himself. His brother was not here today it seemed.

Erik had told her that she was not to interact with Raoul. And even now she had a strange craving to run up to the boy and apologize for not showing up, but she didn't want to disobey Erik for fear he might be angry with her. She didn't like it when he spoke to her angrily. It was worse than when he didn't speak to her at all.

"Rest now girls, you are doing magnificently," Madame Giry told them with strange praise as they all collapsed in a heap on the floor, ready to cut their legs off from exhaustion.

Christine did her best to ignore Raoul even though she could see him from the corner of her eye – staring at her. She could also see his form getting bigger as he approached her. She sighed stiffly; the other girls looked to him with admiration and to Christine with jealousy. Meg Giry was sick at her home… she would have been Christine only salvation.

"Christine," Raoul's voice was soft and almost hurt, she looked up to him and stood, she did a slight curtsy, remembering her manners and then sighing with a hint of irritation.

"Good afternoon, Raoul de Chagny."

He tilted his head at her, "you didn't come last night." Christine stared at him, expectant. "You didn't come last night." He repeated with more stress.

"Yes, I know that. I am forbidden to talk to you." She said honestly. "You are very kind and I welcome your friendship by I cannot be seen speaking to you." Her tone was quiet and she noticed other girls craning forward on the wooden floor to listen to the conversation she was having with the handsome boy before her.

"But I thought you wanted-

"I cannot. My guardian forbids it." She interrupted him quickly. Christine's irritation was starting to show itself as her jaw tensed.

**…**

He watched with slight admiration as Christine held her ground against the pest that was Raoul de Chagny. He felt a small smirk crawling to the surface as Raoul stepped forward towards Christine and she stepped back, keeping her distance from him. He could hear everything they were saying, he had better hearing than most here, _which is why I know that Christine will be the best of this opera house when the time comes._

He watched as Christine repeated herself once more to the stubborn boy, "I cannot be seen with you Raoul, not now, not ever. Forgive me."

"I do not understand why it is that he will not let you have friends Christine, that is all." The boy said softly.

"You do not have to." She said carefully. "Good bye." She turned and stalked off into the folds of the curtains. Erik watched with a raised eyebrow as Raoul de Chagny went after her.

Instantly Erik took off into the hallways of the Opera House. His steps fell quietly and sure. He knew his way around this opera house better than people knew their own homes.

He found Raoul de Chagny looking for Christine, lost no doubt. The young boy didn't even see Erik as he walked past the black figure in the shadows. How Erik _hated_ him, his face was perfect, his nose was pristine and proud, and his eyes were wide and pure.

"Christine!" His young voice echoed off into the halls of the opera halls. The boy sighed heavily, frustrated.

**…**

Where was Christine? This was taxing on his nerves and Raoul de Chagny did not enjoy chasing young girls into the darkest halls of the Opera house. How he had lost her so easily was a mystery to him but at this very moment he didn't care. He simply needed to find her. He had found himself growing strangely fond of the stoic girl named Christine.

He had found himself severely disappointed when she did not come to mass as they had agreed. And his thoughts had been of nothing but her, he liked her awkward look, her skinny frame and her pretty blue eyes.

She was different, that was most certain; he had never felt more certain of anything in his entire life.

"Christine!" he called once more. His echoed called back to him again. But something else also replied…

_"Raoul de Chagny." _The voice was low and everywhere. Raoul whipped around with horror and stiffened. His limbs became icicles. Painful and frozen to his torso, his arms remained still and his legs locked, _"I must ask that you stop following Christine. It would be better if you never returned to this opera again."_

Raoul swallowed painfully and twisted his head, trying to find who it was that was speaking. But it was so dark. "Who are you, Sir?" The voice was most certainly male, it was deep and velvety.

_"I am the Opera Ghost," _the person replied.

"You, sir, are no ghost!" Raoul claimed, but he wasn't very sure of this. The voice sounded otherworldly, that was true, but a ghost? No! This was ridiculous. "Come out and face me if you are a man."

_"You grow tiring boy, I am no man. I am more monster than man, more ghost than human. And you - a pest in my opera house."_ The voice was starting to grow quieter, and strangely Raoul found this to be more disturbing.

"What do you want with Christine?" Raoul dared to ask, "Why is it a problem that I should wish to speak with her, we are friends, she and I."

_"As I heard it seems you two are not friends at all. She does not want your friendship, that is why you're here and she is there. She wants nothing to do with you, boy, and I do not have to explain anything to you. Get out of my Opera House." _

Raoul felt as though he had been released from a horrible spell and instantly took off darting through the darkness and to the nearest point of light.

His eyes watered as he ran through a set of thick curtains and fell haphazardly onto the stage beside a ballerina who shrieked at the suddenness of Raoul de Chagny at her side. He was gasping and stood from the floor with horror and shock. "There is a ghost in the Opera House!"

"Raoul, boy what are you doing!" His father called as he approached the stage. Raoul caught sight of Christine Daae behind Madame Giry, trying to make herself disappear from his vision. "Raoul!"

"There is a ghost here father! I heard him! He spoke to me!" The young boy exclaimed, touching his father's sleeves fervently, the girls of the opera house dared not to laugh in the presence of Raoul de Chagny's father, but they would not even if they wanted to. They knew it to be true, there was ghost here. "Father you must believe me!" Raoul stared at his father with fear.

The man stared down at his son with apprehension and then he chuckled under his breath. Raoul glared at his father as the man stroked his beard with a lazily swollen hand. "Your banters are truly amusing Raoul. It is time to go; your brother waits for us." Grabbing his son by the hand he led him out of the Opera House. Raoul protested quietly and looked back towards Christine with a look of fear. Christine was still behind Madame Giry who was speechless and staring. He found that Christine's countenance seemed to have broken and a more sensitive expression came over her face, a look of regret and perhaps sadness.

Christine realized that the look seemed to not be out of fear for his life, but for her own!

**…**

Weeks passed without word from Raoul. Christine found herself focusing more than ever on her music. Erik informed her that she was improving with every rehearsal.

When Christine and Erik practiced one evening he noticed that her voice range seemed to have strengthened and as she did her scales her focus went completely into the music. His eyes widened with appreciation when she hit a high note perfectly. The purity of her tone was refreshing. His fingers glided effortlessly over the keyboard with joy. He was eager to know how far she could go but would not push her voice.

"Erik," her voice called him to reality that evening as he continued composing the song he was writing for her, he merely nodded, "do you think that I may go upstairs for a while?" He stiffened, "I wish to see the stars. It has been very long you know."

"I do not think that that is a good idea. I fear that-

"Please Erik; I am so tired of being in the darkness."

He turned slowly, analyzing her in her pretty blue dress. She stared back at him, not defiantly but with a raised brow, "is this home not pleasing to you anymore?" His question came out like more of an accusation and try as she might she found herself shivering under his gaze.

"It is not that at all," she told him gently, her tone was soft and almost angelic. "I simply wish to go out. I need air."

He nodded softly. "Perhaps we may stop by the church, you wanted to go did you not?"

She grinned and nodded.

**…**

Christine and Erik walked through the shadows of the streets quietly. The frigid night air made her cheeks pink and her hands numb. Erik frowned at her whenever she attempted to loosen the fabric around her throat. She would immediately stop fidgeting and then her eyes would focus on the streets.

The night had never been more appealing, when she had been in the care of her father the night only came with dangers that she feared she would not be able to fight off, but with the shadow at her side she felt more safe.

And Christine couldn't help but acknowledge that the shadow beside her was just that, a shadow. He stuck to the darkness well and even his white mask would blend into the black like ink in water. She noticed that his steps were more rhythmic than her own and she had to keep a strange pace to make sure she was still at his side. His legs were much longer than her own and therefore he walked further with one step.

Eventually they reached the church, she was about to ask him how it is that they were going to get inside but instantly she realized that they wouldn't be able to get inside. "I can pray out here," she spoke to herself quietly and walked up the church steps and then bowed before the church and dropped to her knees, Christine clasped her hands and began a small prayer to her father.

Erik watched with fascination as Christine blocked out all other sound and prayed to the sky. He had always found religion to be quite intolerable and rather ridiculous, but here was Christine, doing exactly what he found so ridiculous –and suddenly it was not so absurd.

Erik turned to watch the streets for any wandering people. Minutes ticked by and then he heard a sound behind him, he knew it was not Christine; Christine's footsteps were not so loud.

"Well, well, well…" Someone chuckled maliciously. Erik saw two men grinning. They stalked forward and noticed Christine's bowed head, she seemed to feel their gaze as she looked up and turned slightly to see the men staring at her from the bottom of the stairs. "Is there a reason you are here, little darlin'?" One of the men called up to her. Instantly Erik stalked forward from the shadows.

"I'm praying," she informed them with confusion, looking to Erik.

Erik stepped forward more and glared at them sharply. "May I help you?"

The first thing they did was stare in shock at the masked man. Then, after they got over the mask on his face the one on the right spoke, "You can get out of our street, and leave the little dove." The one on the right snickered; his hair was blonde and tousled. His eyes were red and the iris' were a strange brown.

"I suggest you leave," the other one hinted to Erik.

"I hardly think you to be the one who determines that." Erik tried to reason. Were Christine not here he would have snapped their necks already just for speaking to him and looking at him the way they were. "Christine, come down here." He told her. He would indeed leave; he was not in the mood to break someone's neck tonight, _not in her presence. She will be shielded from all the evil I know._

Christine wordlessly ran down the stairs and was about to flit by their side but he stopped her with his stare and said, "go around this way," he directed her to make a wide arch away from the sides of the two men. She did as he said and came to his side, he gently moved her behind him. He felt the rope near his wrist beneath the sleeve of the jacket.

"What a pretty, little, thing." The man to the right acknowledged and stepped forward.

"Erik, let's go." Christine's little voice sounded shaken suddenly. She tugged at the back of his jacket gently.

"Why won't you let us have a little peek," one of the men laughed to Erik who was shaking, trying to contain his fury and his hatred for the prowlers of Paris at that moment. _It seems all the monsters come out at night – _Erik thought with a sense of humor. But then the seriousness came back as he felt Christine tug more firmly so that they might escape the perverse stare of the two men. It occurred to him then, as they stared at him that they didn't want to look at Christine, it was _him._

"Just a little peek," the other repeated and trudged forward.

"Erik." Christine pled now and pulled him so hard he took a step back. He looked down to her and noticed her eyes were stretched in fright and her grip on him was relentless. He had dismissed the other two and didn't notice the blonde one charging in his direction. "No!" Christine shrieked as the man ran. Erik shoved Christine harshly out of the way and fell back with the man on top of him.

**…**

Christine watched in terror as the man straddled Erik and pressed his hands into Erik's neck. The other fool had collapsed in a heap of laughter and Christine could only shakily get up from the floor. "Get off of him! Get off of him!" She shouted angrily as Erik reached up to try to pry the man's hands off his throat.

Before her eyes Erik suddenly swiveled and he was above the man. His mask was still in place and then she noticed the other man coming in her direction. She backed up from him and looked to where Erik was wrestling with the assailant; he seemed to have the upper hand.

"Come 'ere darlin'."

"No-no-no!" She whispered harshly. The scarf around her throat felt very tight, and memories of her father getting his head blown apart came back like harsh slaps in the face. She would not let that happen to Erik; she would not let him be distracted.

Christine took off running with the man hot on her heels through the streets of Paris - without her _Ange_ at her to protect her.

* * *

_Uh-oh._

Seems We have a bit of a pickle here don't we. Well, tell me what you think by answering these questions: **Should Christine have run off in order to protect Erik? Should Erik have taken the nonviolent approach like he first wanted to (in order to protect Christine) or should he have just taken them out immediately? Is Erik wrong for wanting to shield Christine so much from everything, and do you think it will backfire? **

**BONUS: Have you ever seen examples of people being overprotective and it ends up backfiring completely, or better yet, have you ever seen examples of people being overprotective where it DOESN'T backfire completely?**

I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR REVIEWS AND YOUR ANSWERS! 


	9. Smiles & Broken Vows

**Chapter IX**

The night was silent. The wind did not stir, and whatever breath there might have been in the air went unheard. That is of course if you were not Christine Daae who was running like a zebra for its life.

The young girl was speeding through the streets with more fervor than she knew she could have ever possessed. And her heart was pounding so hard that she was certain it would give out at any moment, and her legs were hurting her so badly that the man chasing her was momentarily forgotten as she continued being teased by her tired legs. _Stop running, stop running – _she kept hearing in her head but she could not. Her lungs, exhausted as they were, could manage to carry her a little further. Or so she hoped.

The man behind her had fallen some steps behind and Christine took this opportunity to quickly dart left and through another street. She looked behind her and saw the man bent over and grabbing his knees, out of breath and huffing angrily.

She didn't waste more time and continued running, she looked back and often saw that the man was still in his same place and was struggling to catch his breath. She turned into a dark alleyway, determined to hide there until Erik came and found her. She went in as deeply as she could and shivered in the darkness of it before collapsing against the wall and hugging her knees to herself and keeping an eye on the entrance of the alley, ensuring that if anyone were to come in she would see them before they saw her.

**…**

Erik got to his knees with a huff. The man beneath him had gone limp so time ago. And to Erik's great amusement the man had died right in front of the church. How ironic that this man should die in such an unholy manner before a church.

But the humor died down quicker than it had come. He did not hear Christine, he did not even see the other man that had been with the one dead at his feet. And then dread washed through Erik's system. Where was Christine?

He let his eyes roam the darkness of the night all around him and found no trace of her.

Instantly Erik started running through the street. He didn't know where to go, but knew that if Christine had run she would not be clever about it. She would run straight, so that was what he did. He thought in the mind of one who is panicked. And the more he ran the more panicked he became. _What if he has taken her? What if he has harmed her? That would be _my_ fault, your guardian would have failed you Christine._

Erik spied a man hunched over in the distance and slowed his run to a lithe walk; he pressed himself to the shadows of the buildings. He fixed his eyes upon the man straighten up and gasping for breath. He immediately recognized the male.

The masked figure moved forward and unleashed the Punjab lasso from his sleeve. The man lunged forward and wrapped the rope tightly around the neck of the other. In the dark no one would have seen anything, and no one would have heard it either. The figure that was masked tugged hard and pulled. He almost didn't feel the man flailing in his grasp as the life was choked out of him. He didn't care for it – he wanted only to find Christine. But he made sure to look into his victims eyes.

As the man's last breath was going out of his body, and his eyes bulged forth from his head like they were ill fitted to their sockets, Erik stared at him; the man's eyes searched wildly in the dark for the face of his killer, but found only a mask before this too was enveloped in darkness.

**…**

Christine couldn't feel her fingertips. She couldn't feel her feet, or her cheeks, she opened and closed her mouth, childishly afraid that perhaps her cheeks had fallen off. And her fingers were getting more unfeeling as the seconds passed. Christine didn't know how long she was there, but guessed that at least thirty minutes had passed.

From the front of the alley she caught sight of a black figure passing. She noticed a flash of white material with no eyeballs and stood to her feet. Was that Erik? Christine didn't know, but she was sure, she felt it in her very soul. Christine darted out of the alleyway and looked to the dark figure moving swiftly down the street. She wanted to call out to it… it was just as tall as Erik, and it wore the same cloak.

She ran towards it swiftly on her small feet and tried to be sneaky, but the figure stopped walking and suddenly spun around.

She gasped under the intense amber gaze from a few feet away. Erik's eyes burned brilliantly and she for a moment took it as anger, but as he quickly came her way she could not bring herself to care as to if it was or it wasn't. Her legs carried her swiftly to her dark guardian and she bounded into his frame with a fierce embrace.

Christine wanted to say something to him as he pulled her away to an arm's length and came down to meet her at eye level, but her lips were too numb and try as she might she couldn't think of anything to say. It seemed that Erik didn't know what to say either as he frowned at her deeply and ran his eyes over her carefully.

He was examining her for any injuries. His stony face was never as comforting as now. His voice would have made her feel better, but just the fact that he was here made her feel safe. Erik released a soft breath that fogged the air before her and he then took her hand in his and wordlessly led her back to their Opera House.

When they got to their lair Erik pulled her to the kitchen.

"Sit down," he ordered her. She took a seat and watched him as he grabbed candles and set them beside her on the mahogany table in the center of the room. The warmth caused Christine to give a sharp shiver.

"Are you hurt?" He asked her as he searched for something in the cabinets. She shook her head but remembering that he could not see her she answered, no. "Take that off," he motioned and she quickly removed her cloak from her shoulders. He turned to her and she saw some things in a bowl. She frowned as he kneeled before her. He noticed her dress had a bloody stain and he frowned up at her. "You told me you were not hurt-

"I'm not. I did not see that." She protested gently.

"May I look?" He asked her, she nodded and he lifted the dress just above her ankles, he noticed a slight abrasion on her leg and shook his head. "How did you get that?"

"Perhaps when I fell." She guessed. He took some water and washed it carefully, she stifled whatever sounds of pain she might have felt as he held a piece of cloth to it and carefully cleaned the wound. When that was finished he covered it with a sticky cloth that held in place.

Erik then took the bowl and dipped his hands in them, carefully he then took hers and resumed to rub them carefully, and she frowned in confusion. "What is that?" She asked, she noticed that the substance was oily and shiny.

"It is oil that will warm your hands." He responded.

She frowned at him now, "have I done something wrong?"

**…**

"Why do you ask that?" His question came out just as seriously as he intended. And for a long time Christine stared at him as if he were the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.

"You are acting… not like Erik." Her voice took a sad tone that he loathed. He knew what she was talking about but had hoped that she hadn't noticed his more-than-usual- despondent attitude.

Erik felt afraid of her for a small moment. He wanted to hide away from her intense gaze and her very curious and knowing eyes. He was ashamed that perhaps she was afraid of him, or worse that she did not trust him anymore. That the one good title cast on him was thrown away because of his disposal of the two assailants.

Surely she knew that he had killed them both? Or was she so naive…?

"I am acting completely like myself. The night has been very trying." He responded finally and continued rubbing her tiny hands carefully, the skin contact made him feel more uncomfortable than he liked to admit. But he had to do it didn't he. "If I come off as rude than you must ignore me, for I have a lot of things on my mind that you are far too young to understand."

She watched him, "Thank you. For finding me and taking care of me, twice now." She smiled cheekily at him. Erik stared, his eyes adverted themselves from hers for a few moments. He had never been so close to a smile, and especially not one _directed_ at him… or even _in his direction._

Erik eventually stood and turned from her as she stared at her warming hands in wonder and then sighed heavily. "Christine, you should go to bed, I think it best."

"Erik-

"Tomorrow you have school early… your performance is coming soon and you must rest. Perhaps you will not be able to go with that abrasion at your ankle-

"Erik!" She gasped at him. He turned around and stared at her, her gaze was on his side. He looked down to what it was that she looked at and simultaneously became aware of a cool feeling at his side.

He realized that blood was soaking through his shirt. With a grunt he escaped to his own room and tore at his shirt. He stood analyzing the gash at his waist and gritted his teeth, reaching for his needle and string. He would stitch this up immediately and be done with it.

"Erik!" He heard Christine at his door. He sighed with frustration. "Erik are you alright?"

"Everything is fine Christine, go to bed."

"Please let me in, I am afraid." Her small voice grew even smaller and he found himself unwilling to say no to her. Sharply he threw on his shirt and buttoned it carefully. He opened the door and found Christine fidgeting with her hands awkwardly, clearly enjoying the oil that softened her skin. "Erik, do you need a bandage?" Her eyes grew wary of the blood soaking the dark shirt.

"Do not concern yourself with it." He said sharply and turned to the bedroom. Christine entered a few moments later with a dazed gaze around the bedroom. She noticed that there was a bed in the center of the room but it seemed to be more like a black pool. The bed sheets were dark satin and the wood of the bed mahogany. There was a single rectangular rug in the center of the room with mahogany coloring. When Christine looked to Erik she noticed him staring at the wound at his side with a focused stare. The gash was not as bad as she initially thought but it made her cringe. She didn't liked the side of the red against his very pale skin.

"Do not get that look Christine. It is not as bad as it seems." Erik assured her. She looked up at him with a nod, swallowing back fearfully.

"You won't die right?" She murmured, "You're not-

"Christine." He interrupted her sharply. Her eyes widened. "I am not going to die; I will be here to protect you."

She nodded, feeling comforted. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He didn't know that there was anything she could really do but he sighed and took a seat on the bed. He noticed her moving to his side and hesitantly taking a seat beside him, she hardly moved the bed with her slight weight.

"Shall I sing?" She asked softly.

"If you wish," he replied, and sighed contentedly as she started singing gently. Her voice did not soar, but it wrapped around him and squeezed out whatever tensions he had previously felt. He blinked slowly and listened to her silvery tone, trying to allow it to envelope him fully.

As Christine sang Erik went to his needle and string. He turned his side away from Christine so that she would not see what he was about to do. The man he had been wrestling had probably pulled out a blade of some sort and sliced him there, in his fit of rage Erik had not felt it. Erik gritted his teeth as he pushed the needle through his skin, in and out, in and out, as Christine sang angelically behind him.

When he was done he put the needle into a tiny box and turned to face Christine who was drifting to sleep.

"You should sleep now," he murmured gently, coming to her side with exhausted eyes and slumping down onto the bed. It shifted with his weight and Christine shook her head stubbornly with half lidded eyes. "Christine," his tone was warning.

"I do want to be there alone," her tone was slurred and he sighed as he put his head down to the pillow and stretched out on the mattress. Erik threw an arm over his eyes to block out the dim light, "may I rest here tonight Erik? I cannot sleep alone tonight."

"Fine. But please stop talking." He said with defeat. He missed the satisfied lazy smile that drifted across Christine's face as she crawled to his side hesitantly. He hardly noticed the mattress shifting as she curled up beside his tall body and watched the unmasked side of his face.

She wanted to ask him why it was that he wore the mask. The question would be rude, she knew that but she couldn't help but want to know the answer to it. It was simple curiosity.

"Erik?" She whispered into the darkness. The man beside her gave a sigh. She bit her lip.

"Yes, Christine." His melodic voice answered back, she smiled softly, Erik had the nicest voice.

She bit her lip and moved closer to his side. Erik stiffened and almost jerked away from her but relented. She was not touching him at least. That was good, "You are still my _Ange_? Right? Even though I ran away tonight… you are not upset with me?" Erik turned to see that Christine was staring at him with a frightened expression. "I ran because when I stayed with Papa he had become distracted by me being there. And I was afraid that if I stayed this time that the same would happen, and then you'd get hurt."

He stilled further, his eyes unblinking and his hands unmoving, "You did not wish me to be hurt."

"Of course not _Ange_, I could never want that!" Christine's voice grew outraged and she sat up, staring down at him with shock, "I wish to protect you."

Erik's breath left him in a shudder. How ridiculous, that her, a puny child should wish to protect him, the devil's son! "Oh, Christine." His whisper left him in a tremble and Christine lay back down beside him. _She lies beside a monster, and thinks me an angel. She wishes to protect this diabolical beast she so naively thinks angelic, and of all things she chooses me to be an _angel_! How perfectly absurd! _ But despite the absurdity Erik watched Christine drift.

"You're still my _Ange_?" She repeated her question dreamily with her back turned to him.

Erik turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, a ghost smile graced its way to his lips. "I am still your _Ange._"

**…**

The next few days passed as smoothly as usual. Christine prepared for the show with intensity and her music lessons went as good as always. Erik was proud of her progress, her voice was perfect. Her voice gave him hope for the future of this Opera house. It made Christine happy to see that he was happy with her singing; it made _her_ proud to make _him_ proud.

It was on the final day of rehearsal, as Christine and the rest of the girls were packing up their bags, having been let out of rehearsal three hours early, that she saw Raoul sitting with his father in the audience, speaking to the managers. Christine was shocked at first, but dismissed his presence as she made her way towards the stairs.

Naturally, she had no such luck. Before she could fully make it to the stairs Raoul was on her and he turned her around gently with a hand on her shoulder. She sighed and smiled at him pleasantly.

"Christine," he grinned at her, "how are you?"

"I am well Raoul," her blush crept up to her face as she caught sight of Meg Giry behind Raoul grinning widely from ear to ear and wiggling her eye brows at Christine. "How are you?"

"I am well," he smiled gently, "I saw you rehearsing; you and Meg Giry are the best dancers of the entire ensemble."

"Well I doubt that," she laughed gently, "I sing, I do not dance. I do believe you when you say Meg is the best however." She paused, remembering to be polite, "But thank you, you're very kind."

He smiled and blushed at her compliment, he stared at his feet for a long time and then looked up at her, her gaze was wandering, she looked just as nervous. "I was wondering if you would like to come play with me and my friends sometime… perhaps-

"Raoul you know I cannot."

"But why not Christine," he took her hands in his now, she frowned, finding this very dramatic but staring at him speechless and impressed with his tenacity, "you and I should be friends. You and I are very similar you know."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know that you have an insufferable guardian just as I have an insufferable father." He grinned boyishly, "and I know that you are brave, I can see that in your face, and I am brave too you know," he said proudly, standing up a little too straightly, "I am here despite the fact that the Opera Ghost would rather I did not see you at all."

She stared at him and then burst into a giggle, "Oh Raoul, a ghost? Have you absolutely lost your wits?"

"No Christine! I do not jest!" He admonished quickly, "It is true! He spoke to me about you! He does not wish me to be near you… but I do not care! You are my friend. How can you not want to have a bit of freedom Christine?"

She stared at him sadly; Raoul was a very kind boy. But Erik's eyes seemed to hover over her head anytime she even thought of the boy or of anything that might have any type of relation to Raoul de Chagny. "Oh Raoul," her tone became sad, "I do not know what to say."

"Say yes," he begged her gently, "look, tomorrow, before the show come with me. We shall quickly escape around the city, how does that sound? And I will have you back here before you know it."

"_He_ will not be pleased," she shook her head at him.

"Fine, what about now?" He asked her softly, pressing her hands a bit more firmly.

"What do you mean?" She asked with a confused stare.

"Let's go now. You and I will go to play at my home; my father will not even notice my absence. I can get us there quickly by foot, my father only demands a carriage because he is far too lazy to walk." His blue eyes sparkled gently.

"But what will I say to _Him_?" Her eyes widened as she looked around and saw that most of the girls were headed out of the Opera House, "I must return at some point, and He waits for me. How will I explain myself when I return?"

"We will figure that out as we go, that's part of the fun." Raoul grinned at her coyly and took her arm in his own. "We can sneak around these people and into my house; we will play until our fingers protest."She blushed at the look he gave her, Raoul found her to be so pretty that he could only remove his gaze from her for a few moments. And he knew that she was indeed not especially pretty, her height was nothing extravagant and her eyes were a bit too large, her hair was very messy and too curly, and almost _too_ long. It was as if nature had given Christine all the best features a lady might have and exaggerated them all to an almost unpleasant degree, but yet, she was captivating. "What do you think Christine?" He asked her.

She stared ahead of them with a tremble. The thought of Erik made her heart constrict. She had vowed to never disobey him again, "I cannot Raoul. I must be back before rehearsal's officially end… in three hours."

"Then we will have you back before that time." Raoul said to the young girl and smiled brightly down at her, she struggled to look away, he held both her hands gently as if they were made of glass, and tried to capture her eyes.

She bit her lip nervously, looking around to see if anyone had eyes on them, "alright… alright. Let's go."

* * *

**Ah-oh... Seems like Raoul is convincing Christine to be a bit of a rule breaker.**

**So what did you think? Did you enjoy the building relationship between Erik and Christine? And did you enjoy SMART Christine? (hiding in the alley). I'm always so annoyed by these dumb Christine's I see in stories, I mean yes it does make things more interesting but lets give the character some common sense sometimes shall we?**

**So, do you want Erik to catch Christine hanging out with Raoul? What do you think? I have an idea of how it should play out... and oh boy will it be interesting :) **

**So tell me what you think! Did you find that Erik and Christine moment to be appropriate, and more importantly, do you feel a connection to the characters? I hope you do, I am trying to keep it at a pace that makes sense for where I have this story headed. **

**Warning****: Chapter 10 will be the last of Christine's ****_youth_****. From Chapter 10 on it will be Christine as a mature young lady, so things will most certainly be getting a bit more dramatic and much more touchy. The Rating will probably go from T to M because more mature themes that I find a lot of writers on here avoid, so I think it will be interesting to see all of your reactions for all of the awesome, gross, and horrific things I have planned for our wonderful characters :)**

**And oh boy is it going to be good, I can hardly wait.**


	10. Hierarchy

**Chapter IX**

Christine's nerves only increased the farther they drew from the Opera House. Raoul who clutched her hand almost painfully tugged her gently down the streets of Paris with a smile plastered on his face. He knew that she would enjoy herself, she had to! And he couldn't wait to show her his home; she would be so captivated by the sheer size of it. But first he would take her to the river, she would love it.

Raoul and Christine talked of random things they saw, he spoke to her of clothes and dogs, of how he disliked raccoons but thought them to be pretty creatures. Christine admitted that she had an affinity for cats, particularly stray ones, explaining that they were more grateful than those simply born into a home. He raised an eyebrow at the queer explanation but adored her all the more for it.

"Where are we going Raoul?" She asked him when she noticed that they were approaching a park. He grinned at her and simply pointed ahead.

Through a set of willow tree's Christine caught sight of something glistening. She stopped walking and squinted. "It's a brook," Raoul told her and pulled her as he broke into a run. She ran in his hand, ignoring the distasteful stares of the ladies and gentlemen around them as they broke past the willow trees and stopped on the bank of the beautiful water.

"This is amazing!" She told him gently, plopping down in her dress and not caring for the dirt. Raoul's eyes brightened at this and he sat down too. "How beautiful. Do you come here often? I have never seen something like this before."

"I come here whenever my father admits me." He looked to Christine with a wondrous gaze, he noticed that her eyes were dazed. "Christine, tell me about you. I feel as though I know you and I do not know you."

Christine looked to him with a confused stare, "there is nothing to know about me Raoul."

"Of course there is, there must be something you can tell me. Let's start with this, what is your age?" He asked and took her hand gently, it was so small and warm in his.

"I am six… that's what Nadir says."

"Who is Nadir?" He asked with a curious gaze.

"He…" Christine did not know how to answer that and so she simply shrugged, "he's an uncle of mine." Raoul went on to ask her about her aspirations, "I want to be a singer," she announced meekly, "I have been training to beat out everyone else."

"I'm certain you will." He smiled, "Will you sing for me later?"

Christine nodded shyly; blushing under the praising stare Raoul was casting her way. He couldn't help it however. She was so pretty before the running water, and the water itself deflected colors at her skin that made her look fairy-like. Raoul went on to ask her about her favorite colors, her favorite foods, her favorite games and everything of this sort.

As they chatted Christine hardly noticed her scarff coming undone and it wasn't until the wind whipped it out to the brook that they both took became aware of it.

"No, no!" Christine shrieked as the water tried to swallow her scarf. Raoul instantly stood and jumped into the water quickly, and fetched the fabric easily before darting out of the freezing water.

"Oh Raoul, you're soaken and it is cold, this is not good." She worried as he came out with a grin on his face as if nothing was wrong.

"Do not fret Christine, its only water."

Over the next hour he found out that Christine's favorite color was amber, her favorite food was simply bread, and she enjoyed no games as she had never partook in any. He also asked her about her father, to which he regretted noticing the distant look she got on her face but was relieved when she smiled and told him that her father, Gustav Daae, was a wonderful man who had played the violin to ensure their survival. Her mother had passed, same as her father, but she was saved by her guardian.

"And who is this guardian?" Raoul asked.

Christine suddenly looked up at the darkening sky with a shiver. Raoul looked up too and noticed that the winds had picked up and Christine's cheeks were flushed and her nose was reddened. "Come," he told her gently and picked her up, her hand was still warm in his, "we must go to my home before returning to yours."

Raoul led Christine down the streets quietly, smiling at her whenever she looked around her and then back to him. She seemed wary of something though he didn't know what; he paid no mind and wrapped his arm around her slight frame hesitantly. Christine shivered and he held his position, hoping she did not mind it too much.

When they got to his home Christine was shocked at the sheer size of the mansion before her. She stepped back from the gate to simply examine the large home in the distance. Raoul blushed at her as she looked to him in disbelief and he led her past the black iron gates silently and then to his house.

When Raoul opened the door she was yet again stupefied by everything. Shiny marble floors, a large staircase that led to another floor. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, not the same size as the one of the Opera House, but much too extravagant for any home except perhaps this one.

"Come, let us go to my room, I do not wish for my parents to know that I've snuck someone inside. The maids might tell on me." He whispered lowly and rushed her up the stairs.

Christine quickly went up the flight of stairs with Raoul, trying hard to keep her eyes on what was ahead of her but finding her gaze lingering to everything else. Finally he pulled her inside a door and shut it before turning and grinning madly like if he had just robbed a bank.

"Your home is… unbelievable!" Christine cried out as Raoul jumped forward and carefully placed his hand over her mouth, as they both giggled madly.

"You must not speak too loudly," Raoul cautioned her, smiling, "I am not supposed to have company over you see?"

Christine nodded as Raoul released her mouth and then stepped back. She looked around the room and noted that the walls were colored a sky blue and his bed lay to her right, it was big, far too big for him, and the cushions were large and fancy. He had a box in the corner of the room and he also had a large window directly in front of the door. There was a closet to the right but she dared not look inside without permission.

The entire room was larger than any she had ever been in with the exception of the Opera House auditorium and the entrance to this home.

"Tell me, what do you think?" He asked quietly. He walked to the box in the corner of the room beside the large window that took up almost the entire wall and opened it, he was searching inside for something but Christine stayed where she was, almost afraid to move.

"I think your home is very beautiful."

"Perhaps one day I can come over your home?" He asked her pensively as he looked within the box.

_Oh Raoul, Erik would not allow that. Erik would be very angry… and you would be severely disappointed to learn that Erik and my home is nothing compared to this. We have darkness and rock, and you have… paradise. _"Perhaps," she smiled simply.

Raoul excused himself momentarily to change out of his wet clothing, when he returned he found Christine exactly where he had left her.

The minutes passed with Christine and Raoul playing quietly but adventurously. Raoul would chase Christine around the room pretending to be a monster and she the princess, but Christine protested to this claiming that she did not want to be that, instead she claimed to be a warrior princess, Raoul did not object and they continued their game this way for quite some time.

It was as they were both collapsed on the floor, exhausted from their exertions that Christine took noticed of the darkness outside.

"I must go Raoul, I must be there when he comes to get me."

"I understand." He murmured almost demurely and stood, taking her hand in his once again and pulling her quietly out of the door way.

Christine and Raoul flew down the flights of steps silently; they heard housemaids walking around the house and would stop to ensure that none of them were coming their way. But as they reached the last few steps they stopped - they heard footsteps from what Christine believed to be the living room.

"Christine we must get you out of here. That is my father with the doctor; my father will come up the stairs and see you surely." Raoul whispered as he tugged her down the stairs.

Her heart raced. "Raoul but how will I get home!"

"I will take you!"

"Your father will be angry! Stay behind I will find my way home!" She whispered softly as they reached the final landing and the footsteps drew more adjacent to them. Raoul shook his head and tugged her forward.

It was as they were approaching the exit to the home that they heard a gasp.

Christine and Raoul whirled around.

"Father, I can explain!" He instantly started.

**…**

"Christine?" Nadir stared at the young girl before him in shock.

"You know this girl?" Raoul's father turned to stare at Nadir with confusion, the young girl simply flushed in colored and gripped his sons hand tightly. Raoul moved forward, dragging her unwilling frame with him in turn. "Raoul what is the meaning of this! You know your mother is sick and company-

"Father she is so kind you must meet her! This is Christine!" Raoul pulled her forward; she looked to Nadir and locked stares. There was a silence before the madness erupted.

"Christine what in the world are you doing here!" Nadir's voice rose so sharply she jumped and instantly Raoul jumped to her defense.

"I was inviting her so that we might play-

"Raoul your mother is going to be furious!" Raoul's father hollered and grabbed the boy by the arm, his swollen hand had a fierce grip on the boy and Raoul glared up at the man so furiously that Christine thought he might set his balding head on fire, her hand was still in Raoul grip, _I cannot feel my fingers anymore._

"Christine, come here now!" Nadir scolded her hotly. She bit her lip as Raoul hand tightened on hers.

"Release her!" Monseiour de Chagny exclaimed and shook Raoul, "Release her damn it!"

"Raoul," she pleaded gently as he glared at the man horribly. Christine thought she might vomit.

Suddenly there came a sharper voice, cracking the air and silencing every breath within it. "What is this mayhem in my household!"

Christine and everyone with the exception of Raoul turned to look up the stairs where there stood a tall woman with blonde curls and an intense green stare. Christine shivered as the woman stared at her in particular and started coming down the stairs.

Raoul's grip loosened as Christine twisted her hand in his and jerked backwards towards the door as the woman made her landing and started in her direction. The lady was not beautiful, simply extravagant with her long flowing dress and her diamond on her finger. "Who is this?" She stabbed a finger in Christine's direction.

_I am most certainly going to vomit now – _Christine thought as she searched with her hand for the doorknob, but she refused to remove her eyes from the woman – afraid that she might perhaps attack.

"This is my friend." Raoul huffed, yanking his arm from his father's grip and looking at the woman with a glare, "Her name is Christine-

"I do not care what her name is. I know just from the sight of her that she is nothing more than a baseborn orphan." The woman's voice had settled to something akin to disgust and pity, "I do not know why you waste your time with such filth Raoul-

"Mother!" Raoul hissed angrily.

Nadir stepped forward hastily now, his eyes burning black fire like Christine had never seen before, "I will not permit you to talk of Christine in that manner, madam. We will be taking our leave of your home now."

"She is not welcome here, ever again, Persian." The woman looked to the young girl with distaste as Christine tried to make herself invisible, she was willing the tears to not fall, but the woman could see them brimming.

"Christine," Raoul's voice was a meek whisper; she looked to him with a shiver and shook her head at him, begging him to be silent. "You and I are friends," he reminded her gently before his mother's hand came crashing down on his cheek. Christine jumped at the contact but Raoul simply glared at the woman.

"You are not allowed to associate with her kind anymore Raoul, look at her," she hissed and grabbed his face and turned it to look at the girl by the door who had turned her back and was struggling to pull the door open, "see how below you she is? Look, she's dressed in rags with a wet scarf-

"Stop it!" Nadir growled and stepped forward. "You do not know her. You know nothing of Christine and yet you stand there and berate a child! A child? What does that say about you madam? You may have your riches, and your jewelry and perhaps Christine and I are not nobility…" He drifted, almost afraid of what would come out of his mouth.

Christine finally pulled the door open and turned as Nadir went to her, taking her hand in his, she finished for him, "I may have a rock, as a home, Madam de Chagny, and you may have this paradise, but your home is filled with hate and mine with love, and that makes me far more wealthy than you can ever hope to be." Raoul gave a strangled cry and leaped forward as if to wrench Christine back to him but his father grabbed him backwards and Nadir shut the door.

**…**

"Oh Christine, Erik will not be happy." Nadir whispered as he pulled the young girl down the streets perhaps a little too hastily. She was running to keep up with him and was tripping half the time. Nadir's eyes were focused ahead, to the Opera House the loomed in the distance, and Christine's eyes were far way. Locked in her own thoughts the girl could not help but to think of madam de Chagny, how that woman _hated_ her without even _knowing_ her!

Nadir's thoughts were circling around how to tell Erik what had happened, how does he explain Christine's rebellion to the man? Surely Erik would not care anyway. He sighed, trying to find comfort in this thought alone, but doubting it in his heart.

When they got into the Opera House Christine had still not said a word and as Nadir pulled Christine through hallways and shadows, silently, she still could not mutter a word. _Well, I dislike you too madam de Chagny, you know nothing! _

Nadir led Christine through a secret passage way Erik had taught him about and then they descended through the mad tunnels of Erik's underground lair.

When they finally reached the lair Nadir stilled as he looked around the dimly lit lair. He squinted, trying to make out things and then he froze as he saw Erik's figure hunched over the piano instead of the organ that would have put him in direct view of the masked man.

Christine, whose hand was weakly held in his, did nothing and made no move to walk forward, was she even breathing?

Was Nadir breathing?

Was Erik?

He took a tentative step forward and it would have seemed that he had shouted as Erik sprung up suddenly and whirled around. His amber eyes locked in on Christine's distant face and Nadir's grave expression before he marched forward like a great black demon.

"Where have you been!" He exclaimed more furiously than Christine had ever heard anyone speak to her, perhaps not angrier than Madam de Chagny, but with all the shouting done at her today it might as well have been. Erik came charging in her direction and she whimpered away behind Nadir. Erik froze and stared at Nadir who made no movements to get out of his way. "You would dare stand in front of her – knowing very well that she deserves this?"

"It has been a hard day," Nadir sounded weary, "please lower your voice."

Erik's face became a scowl and his amber eyes darkened as he turned his face downwards, away from the dim candles, "where were you Christine?" he addressed the young girl while glaring at Nadir, knowing she would answer him.

The response came timid, "I was at Raoul de Chagny's home."

**…**

Christine heard nothing when she said it, no response from Erik at all. She thought for a moment that perhaps he was not there at all but as she peeked around she saw that he was very much there, and very much staring at her.

His beautiful amber eyes were now a sight of horror as they burned at her. Christine let out a shaky breath and backed away from Nadir as Erik reached around Nadir easily and pulled her arm to him.

"You were where?" He hissed angrily, what had happened to his _voice_? His beautiful voice now shook her to her very core. He tightened his hold as Christine stared up at him.

"I'm sorry Erik." Her lip trembled as her Ange hovered over her, black and terrifying.

"Erik, let go of the poor girl," Nadir said softly but became silent when Erik's eyes moved in his direction, then they returned to Christine who looked away and focused on the blackness of his clothing.

"What were you doing there? Did you fancy his pretty _face_, perhaps?" Erik's voice became deeper; she felt that she might get swallowed by it, "Do you enjoy his company because you no longer find _Erik_ to be pleasant?" He grabbed a hold on her chin gently and tilted her face up, she saw only sadness and rage in his eyes and the side of his face that was exposed made her sorrowful, for she could see the different emotions playing out on his face clearly, "Why have you disobeyed me!"

Christine shook her head and lowered her face, closing her eyes. Nadir spoke, "I was caring for monsieur de Chagny's hand, swollen as it was it he needed care. I went over and heard him talking of how he had not seen Raoul, his youngest boy. I told him perhaps he should look for the boy, but he said he would return in due time, the boy seemed to have had a fight with his mother about what type of friends he should have and his father believed the boy was having a tantrum because of this." Nadir paused as Erik straightened up, still holding onto Christine's arm.

Nadir continued, "when I had finished checking on his hand I was getting ready to leave, that's' when I saw Christine with Raoul de Chagny coming from upstairs." He saw Erik's eyes narrow, Nadir nervously glanced away, "the young Vincomte's father was visibly upset and grabbed the young boy, the young boy grabbed Christine, refusing to let her go. The father grew more angry at this and there was a lot of shouting, then Madam de Chagny came down." Nadir noticed Christine gave a slight whimper; Erik looked down at her small frame with confusion, understanding that something related to this woman pained Christine. Nadir noticed Erik's pale fingers loosen around her small arm, "Madam de Chagny-

"_Please_ _stop_!" Christine cried out and tried to yank herself free of Erik but he only tightened his arm, "Nadir no more! Tell no more!"

"Tell me, now." Erik's voice became gruff, "Stop it Christine!" He commanded powerfully, instantly the young girl ceased her struggling and was reduce to mere whimpers.

"The… madam called Christine base-born. She demanded that Raoul not keep company with Christine, at that point I protested but she simply continued to reduce Christine's image before the boy to nothing more than an orphan." Christine trembled at the words and Erik's eyes became very still. There was complete silence and Nadir stepped backwards, afraid that it would erupt like in the de Chagny home.

"Please, release me Erik." Christine's young voice pleaded softly, "I will go away so that you may not have to be bothered." Her eyes turned up at him, watered and begging, "please let me go."

"Why would you say that?" Erik's voice became as it always was once again, his eyes too, his expressionless countenance. Only Christine could see the softness in his face and the gentler tone he was using, it all sounded the same to Nadir, cold.

Christine did not reply and only sagged slightly.

"I must take my leave," Nadir murmured gently, he glanced at Erik with a warning stare, Erik nodded, understanding. "Christine," the young girl looked up at him, "you and I will talk tomorrow."

**…**

Silence reigned over the lair for a few moments as they listened to Nadir's retreating footsteps. She felt Erik's hold tighten about her arm and she bit her lip painfully hard as he turned and steered her to her bedroom.

"How dare you disregard my rules?" He said with a stern tone, "I set rules for you because I know what's best. Or do you no longer trust my judgment either?" He did not expect her to answer but when she made an attempt he shot her a glare that silenced her instantly. When they entered her bedroom he picked her up smoothly and set her on the bed. She watched him walk around lighting candles and then he stood in the corner of the room like the watchful guardian that he was.

"Erik-

_"You will not speak._" His voice cut the room sharply. His eyes were unblinking and Christine's eyes watered miserably. "I waited for you by the mirror. The minutes passed and I thought perhaps you had gone out with Meg Giry. When I found this was not the case – as Meg had entered the dressing room briefly to see if you were there, I became very…" he paused, "aggravated to discover that you were not with her." Christine bit her lip, "Imagine my position for a moment, if you will. I wanted to go out and find you, but it was impossible seeing as that if you had decided to come back-

"I _would_ have!" She defended herself.

"-you would not know how to get into the lair, now would you?" His eyes widened with anger, "And so I was forced to stay, thinking that if you returned I must be here else you might try to swim across the lake and drown _once more_!" His voice had risen now and Christine jumped on the last two words. A silence fell for a moment, "I was forced to be helpless Christine. And that is not a position I very much enjoy, I do not miss it."

She was confused by his sentence but said nothing of it. Instead she waited for a moment to speak.

"And then Nadir comes with you in hand, and for a moment I wish to blame him, but then I realize that Nadir would not take you without asking me first. So I realize that innocent little Christine has deceived Erik, _she_ had _disobeyed_ Erik." Shame filled her deeply, "and then to make matters more grievous she cowers behind Nadir from her _supposed_ Ange_." _

Christine broke into a sob and buried her face into her small hands, "oh you _are_ my _Ange_, you _are_!" Her sobs filled the room, "I'm so sorry Erik! Do not leave me! Please do not leave me!" Her chest ached painfully, she was finding it hard to breathe but forced the words out anyway, "Oh please! Please! I will be good I swear it!"

"Oh, Christine…" _There_ it was. That melodic voice that filled her spirit with light! Christine's eyes opened and found that Erik had not moved from his location. "How can I protect you when you put yourself in so much danger?"

"I will not do anything against your wishes Ange, I swear it. You were right, I should not be around Raoul," her eyes watered again, Erik stepped forward from the darkness, "his family does not like me, why did they not like me?" She asked Erik as he stood before her, his broad shoulders blocked out all the light from Christine's face until she was swallowed by his shadow. Then kneeled before her, dropping almost heavily to the ground and staring into her blue orbs stonily, "What did I do wrong?"

"You did _nothing_ wrong to them," his voice became cold, "you are a creature born of music and goodness and they are creatures born of greed and money."

She blinked the tears away, "Raoul tried to hide me Erik. He knew that I was not wanted and he brought me inside, that has to be good, right?"

_Her naivety is beautiful, but so distressing_, "he looked at you and saw you as being below him Christine," he said seriously, "he knew that you would not be accepted and because of that he hid you. He judged you from the instant he saw you and knew that you were not of his type of people. We are outsiders to them Christine. They know nothing of you, or our music."

Her eyes became sad. Erik felt a painful flare in his chest, damning them for this, "but Raoul wanted me to be his friend."

Erik nodded, "he hid you Christine; do you deserve to be hidden?" _You hide her, _Erik thought to himself, _you hide her here so that no one might taint her. _He shook the thought away with another, _But I will not hide you forever Christine, one day you shall flourish under the lights of the Opera house for all the world to see._

"I will focus on my music from now on, I swear it Erik, I _promise_. I will make you proud."

He could have died for that one instant; he had never experienced so much happiness as in that one sentence. She wanted to make him _proud_. Erik nodded simply and stood to his towering height, "You must not see that boy. He will destroy everything." His eyes burned into hers.

"I swear it." She whispered back, staring up at the masked man as he nodded and strode from the room; silently plotting what he would strike upon the Madam de Chagny and when.

* * *

Woo! So there you go! We've seen the first hints of Erik's anger although we know that that was barely scratching the surface :)

So I am pretty sure the next chapter will be skipping years ahead but I'm not entirely sure yet. I find that the next few chapters are going to be a bit tricky, I know that since Erik has been raising her a few people probably see a very father-daughter relationship thing but that was never really how it was supposed to be because I would not feel comfortable writing a romance between that type of dynamic, and I hope that no one see's them as having a father-daughter type of relationship as much as them have a relationship where Erik protects ans shields her almost to a detrimental point. :)

I tried to make this chapter longer than the others and I must thank you for the reviews once again, you're all fantastic - please review haha it doesn't take even one minute haha and for those of you who answer the questions I am always so intrigued by your responses so thank you so much!

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! So questions:**

**1) Do you agree with Christine? Or Erik? Was it nice of Raoul to invite her where she wasn't invited, or was it all irrelevant as he knew Christine would not be accepted and therefore this means that he saw her as being below him (otherwise how would he know she was not going to be accepted? That is Erik's stance).**

**2) Whose side are you more on, Erik's? Where he wants to shelter her from everything, or Raoul who want's her to disobey her guardian? In other words, do you think Erik's stance is more reasonable, or Raoul's? **

So REVIEW PLEASE - It doesn't take that long, and THANK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART to those who have been reviewing, you have yourselves to thank for my speedy updates - you and you alone :)

I will do my best to update sometime tuesday, TOMORROW I'M GOING TO SEE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA ON BROADWAY WITH SIERRA BOGESS. Awesome RIGHT?! So review my darlings! Review!


	11. Music of the Night

**Chapter XI**

"Oh my," Meg stared at Christine with a wide eyed stare as Christine blushed furiously before her, "Christine this is nothing to be ashamed of." She laughed at the silly girl before her and smoothed her hands away from her face, "it's something all women go through."

Christine Daae was most certainly not made aware that this was something all women go through! When the pains in her abdomen first started at the age of seventeen, she believed it to be something she was eating, when they would not stop she considered that perhaps it was just her getting sick. But then the _bleeding_ had started. She was instantly made aware of what was happening because she went to Madam Giry who explained it to be natural, but she did not elaborate. And in this particular month it seemed her body was causing some sort of internal revolt, all she wanted to do was vomit, and sleep. But all she could do was sit with Meg Giry comforting her. "But what is it!" Christine exclaimed angrily, turning in Meg's room to face the mirror.

"My mother says, it's a blessing and a curse," Meg told her with a confused stare; "I think it's more of a curse. It's a sign that you can bear children now. You are a woman grown."

_Well I most certainly do not need blood pooling between my legs to know that! _Christine thought snappily. She was right; anyone could tell that Christine Daae was most certainly a woman. She was not as voluptuous as perhaps, Carlotta, and she was not as tall as Madame Giry, but it was obvious. At eighteen Christine had grown up to be only a bit taller than Meg who was diminutive in size. Christine's hips had widened slightly, her chest was still not as full as she would have preferred and she knew this was not going to change. But she had kept her slight weight naturally and her waist was narrow giving her a softly curved figure.

"Don't fret now. All is taken care of; this will pass in a couple of days." Meg assured her with a pat on the head and a stroke of the brush in Christine's long curly hair. She didn't notice how Christine's eyes bulged.

"Days?!" She shook her head, "I have dealt with this for _years_ and never has it been this horrible. And I am to deal with this for days?" This was ridiculous. She glanced at the clock, seven, she had to leave. "Alright Meg, I must be returning home now, we have rehearsals tomorrow and I must retire."

"Alright, goodnight Christine," Meg smiled gently as Christine led herself out of Meg's humble apartment and outside.

She stood there for a couple of moments, observing the night air Meg lived beside the Opera House, it meant that whenever she did have the chance to be with her outside of the Opera House she only had to walk five minutes. But Christine was paranoid of the night and because of this she made it home in about two minutes, running every step of the way.

Christine took off darting through the empty streets, the cold air slapped her face mercilessly and occasionally would make her eyes water. But it didn't matter if they watered or not, she could find her way to the opera house completely blind.

In no time at all Christine made it inside of the Opera House and took off through the darkness quietly. She knew these passageways well, it was only because of how many times she had traveled them through the years. It still amazed her that no one had figured out that she lived here, she was always the last to leave after all. One would imagine that they'd guess.

In the dressing room Christine waited for Erik to pull aside the mirror. He always waited for her there, and she was always eager to see him pull it aside as if magically.

**…**

He watched her silently from behind the mirror as she stood there with a small smile playing on her full lips. She must have had an idea that he was there, she was always able to sense him, and when she smiled, only if just slightly the way she was now, he knew that she was aware of his presence.

Wasting no more time Erik pulled the mirror away from the two of them, holding out his hand wordlessly. She took his quietly and stepped past the mirror, waiting for him to close it. "How was your evening?" He asked her as he pulled and twisted different things, ensuring their safety.

"It was pleasant," she said in her silvery tone, "and yours?"

"Pleasant." He lied easily and turned to face her.

Christine had always been a lovely girl physically, but now that she was grown she was absolutely stunning. Christine's lips were full, rosy in hue and coy by nature. She always seemed to have a small knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. And her hair, which had been cut a few times, was still as long as it normally was, past her waist and curly beyond control, but yet Meg Giry had always managed to tame the curls so that they became wavy, instead of ringlets. It framed her face beautifully. Christine's eyes were wide as ever, blue and innocently curious about everything.

"I am glad." She said in a small voice, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly as Erik gazed at her, she smiled, "Are we going to go home or shiver all night?"

"Yes, yes come." He swept past her hastily and for a moment was walking too quickly, Christine reached for his hand and slipped it easily in his own. He always shivered when she did that, but she never noticed. Christine just tightened her hold on his large hand and allowed him to pull her deeper into the dark, trusting him completely. They reached the boat and she watched Erik as he rowed them silently towards the other side.

"What did you do today?" She asked him.

"I met with Nadir, we discussed a few things." Short, to the point and vague as always, Christine was used to it.

"What did you and Meg Giry do to occupy your time?" He asked Christine when they finally reached their home, it hardly changed at all. The only thing that had changed was the amount of colors in her room and the amount of food in the kitchen.

"We discussed the rehearsal tomorrow, and other trivial things." Christine set down her blue cloak on a hook near the boat with a glance at the piano where she noticed a new piece. "Is that a new song?"

"It's something I am working on," he said in his melodic tone, turning the sheet around so that she would not see it. "It is not ready yet." Erik took off his cloak and turned to face the smaller woman.

Christine flourished under Erik's roof. He taught her new techniques that improved her voice. He taught her the history of music and art; he taught her how to excel in her craft and wrote songs that were specifically crafted to fit her voice. She loved them all. They were strangely beautiful and haunting.

But she had not only learned things about music, she had also learned things about Erik. She learned that Erik did not like to be disturbed when he was composing, which was most of the day. She learned that Erik was prompt; there was never a day when he was late to take her from her lessons to their home. She knew that he was not religious, and he enjoyed reading, drawing, but still his main passion was music. She also knew that she was not to fool around when time to practice came.

It had been a year ago when she had felt rather lethargic and was leaning on the piano. They had not even begun practice and Erik had stared at her blankly as if she were the biggest idiot to ever step in his path.

"What are you doing?" he had asked her, his tone was not angry, but truly confused it seemed.

Christine's own face became confused.

"What is this?" He asked, running his eyes over her horrid posture, "do you think that I will even listen to a single note you sing when you are standing that way? Are you a singer of a fool?"

Christine had straightened up immediately after that and never tried something like that again.

"Will you come to my performance tomorrow?" Christine asked with a hopeful tone, snapping out of the memory, fidgeting awkwardly with her hands as Erik reached for a fruit. "I do so wish you to come. I know you probably have other things to do, but-

"I will be there." He said, turning and facing her, passing her the apple and waiting for her to eat it.

Christine bit into it obediently and blushing under his amber gaze and his smirking lips.

Erik had also come to learn a few things about Christine; the girl was of the most curious nature. She detested all vegetables, no matter how much he tried to get her to eat something not sweet, she would not have it unless it was meat. She adored animals, cats in particular, and she enjoyed reading his books when she thought he was not aware of it. He learned also that Christine had a particular knack for getting herself into situations she should not be in. Example being the countless times she had fallen and scraped her knees, forcing him to buy a box of medical supplies off of Nadir. Christine also despised Romeo and Juliet, he had learned one evening.

"It's a classic story Christine." He had argued with the ten year old.

"It does not matter!" She exclaimed, flipping through the book angrily, "Juliet is a stupid girl. How does one fall in love so quickly? What a stupid girl!" He had omitted the part where the lovers kill themselves to spare Christine the unhappy ending; he never told her the ending after that – knowing she would hate it even more.

"You will be making your debut soon Christine." Every time Erik said that she felt her stomach flutter. What did that mean? Did he intend to put her on the stage? He was not in control of that, the managers were.

"I know." She responded every time.

"I wish you to star in the next show. Would that please you?" He asked, staring at her with a narrowed gaze. "I believe you are more than ready for this. You have been practicing for years and your voice has never been better."

"I trust your judgment. If you think I am prepared, then I am prepared." She smiled and broke it with a yawn. "I must retire; I am exhausted from the day's events." Christine said to Erik, standing and taking the last bite of her apple.

"Goodnight, Christine. I will see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, _mon Ange_." She said and strut away to her bedroom.

**…**

The following morning was easy. Christine and Erik dressed and then met in the kitchen. She ate quietly while rehearsing her dance mentally. She prepared herself emotionally for the sight of Carlotta, and Erik played on his piano – knowingly soothing the tension off of Christine.

"Where will you be while I perform?" She asked him when he led her to the mirror. She could hardly see him, she could only catch glimpses of his mask here and there.

"My usual seat," his lulling voice answered back from behind the mask, "you will do well tonight Christine. Even if this is not your expertise."

She bid him farewell and escaped to the dressing room and after that to the stage where everyone was already practicing. She jumped in easily, minding her steps and focusing on precision. It wasn't until the door banged open from the other side of the large hall that she broke her concentration. A voluptuous redheaded female strutted into the room with a dramatic sway of her hips.

Carlotta had grown to be perhaps one of the most voluptuous females of all of Paris. She had intense red hair and a red smile on her face at almost all times except for when she looked at Christine. Carlotta's full frame made her stand out from the rest of the dancers in the opera but it was also her voice which Christine found to be mildly impressive, that made her different from the rest of the dancers. Most people thought Carlotta was gifted with the voice of an angel. All except Erik who detested the 'impure' tone Carlotta had and compared it to what devils must sound like if they were to exist.

Carlotta made her way to the stage with a cocky grin about her lips as she stopped before madam Giry and took off her extravagant hat. The other dancers watched with annoyance. "Fo_r_give my ta_r_diness," she explained without remorse, "but I was meeting with my futu_r_e husband." Her rolled R's made Meg cringe beside Christine.

Christine noticed Carlotta's hand where she saw a thick diamond ring, she raised a brow and then turned to whisper in Meg's ear, "Is there a sickness going around? Who would want to marryher?"

Meg giggled as Carlotta and her mother conversed, "a very stupid man, Christine, did you not know that all men lose their minds over a pair of giant breasts and an empty skull?"

Christine bit back a laugh and slapped Meg on the arm for her vulgar manner, _not all men are that way, _Christine thought quietly as she laughed with Meg,_ men like Erik … Erik would not abandon me for a woman like Carlotta, he despises her. He is not one of those men, and therefore not all men are the same._

"Continue from Act II!" Madame Giry called out and the girls did as commanded.

**…**

Finally the time came for the performance. Christine never got nervous for these things; she was used to the lights and the gazing audience. She would only be nervous if He was not there to watch. She needed him to be in his box, it was her safe point, a familiar face amongst all these strangers, even if he was shrouded in darkness and half masked. Tonight Carlotta was singing, she knew that Erik would be in pain listening to the woman, but he would have to bear it tonight just like the rest of them.

When the curtains were pulled back Christine ignored the throbbing pain in her stomach and did her dance perfectly. Meg naturally outshined the rest of them but she did not mind this or feel any sort of jealousy, dancing was not what Christine was best at, what Christine was best at was singing, and soon the world would see that if Erik had it his way.

At the end of the performance Christine was exhausted. Her legs were tired from all the dancing and her limbs ached to go limp on her bed. She hoped that Erik was pleased with her performance. She imagined that he was.

When she made her way back to the dressing room where she usually met Erik she was shocked to see the Carlotta was in there in front of the mirror with a grin plastered on her face. Her eyes skated to Christine and she turned from the mirror, "did you enjoy my perfo_r_mance?" She asked haughtily.

Christine sighed and swallowed, "yes, it was a very nice performance." It wasn't a lie. All the extravagant costumes made Carlotta shine beneath the lights of the stage and the music was beautiful even if _she_ was the one singing it.

"I know!" Carlotta grinned, standing to her full height and looking at Christine up and down, "I hea_r_ you sing, Meg Gi_r_y claims you a_r_e the best singe_r_ she has heard in yea_r_s. Of cou_r_se the girl has no ea_r_ fo_r_ music so I t_r_ust that she is mistaken. Afte_r_ all I was chosen fo_r_ the main role and the manage_r_s simply wanted you to be a dance_r_ _behind_ me."

Christine stared at her in silence for a moment before stepping forward with a delicate smile. "Quite honestly Carlotta, I did not think that I sing that well either. And dancing is not something I am particularly talented at, but apparently neither are you." She smiled sweetly, Carlotta flushed, "after all, you were only given the main role in the production because you danced so horribly. I imagine in a ballroom no one would ask you to be their partner, but it does not matter, after all you can _sing_! So perhaps you might stand on the side lines and hum to yourself while the rest of the girls and myself dance, what do you think?"

Carlotta opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water and then turned, furiously ranting "Ch_r_istine Daae you will neve_r_ be the ope_r_a singe_r_ I am. You can t_r_y but you will neve_r_ _r_each my level of expe_r_tise, I have been t_r_ained! You a_r_e me_r_ely a sewe_r_ _r_at trying to play the role of a talented woman."

"We are actresses, are we not?" Christine smiled gently.

Carlotta let out a stream of insults under her breath and stormed out past Christine, leaving Christine to laugh loudly by herself while she waited for Erik.

**…**

He knew that Christine was shaking on the inside. He had seen the small argument that transpired behind the glass and waited to see what Christine would do when Carlotta left the dressing room. As he expected, the smile died off her face after a few moments of laughter and then she sunk down into the chair before the dressing room mirror and stared solemnly at her reflection. He wondered if she knew that he was there.

"_Papa_," Christine whispered, closing her eyes and bowing her head.

_She does not know I am here…._ Erik thought to go away and let her say her prayers in peace, but found himself too curious.

He stepped forward until his nose was almost touching the glass, "I miss you so much it is painful. There is not one day that I do not think of you and I wish you to know that. So that whenever you may see me laughing, or smiling – you do not think that I have forgotten completely about you." Erik saw a tear escape the confines of her shut eyes. He drew a hard breath. _Christine never cries..._ "You promised me the Angel of Music, and I thank you for keeping that promise." Her breathing became slower, almost relaxed, and not another tear escaped her eyes, "He has taken great care of me, my Angel of Music. I sometimes feel guilty, father, because I smile and laugh and think that he himself is not pleased with me. Do you think Erik is displeased with me?"

_How could I ever be displeased with you, Christine? _– Erik thought with a newfound somberness. Christine sent up another prayer and then stood from the mirror and proceeded to wait. He watched her for a couple of more minutes in silence so that she might not think he was there the entire time and then pulled open the mirror.

**…**

"Will you sing for me tonight?" Christine humbly asked Erik when they reached land. He helped her out of the boat quietly.

"_Christine_-

"You never sing for me." She told him gently with a sweet smile, "you promise me that you would one day."

"If you wish." He told her gently, leading her by her delicate hand to the piano. She sat on the bench and waited for him to begin as he took off his cloak in one elegant and fluid movement. She imagined that if Erik danced he was a great dancer, he excelled at everything and he was more graceful than even she was.

"Did you enjoy my performance?" She asked when he finally settled beside her, the exposed side of his face made her smile. Erik seemed to be a handsome man with his amber eyes and his sharp features, so she could not imagine what it was that he hid on the other side.

"I did, you did well." He said, almost stiffly. He placed his fingers to the keys, Christine frowned.

"You did not think I did very well." She knew it.

"It is not that. It is simply that I wish to see you singing, not prancing around. That is what Meg excels at, Meg Giry could very well be the finest dancer France, but you may very well be the finest _singer_ of all France. You are a singer, Christine, not a dancer."

Christine's eyes dimmed and nodded, looking away from him and staring down at his fingers as he began to play, she was not happy that she had displeased him. She only wanted to make him proud, it hurt her head the more she thought about the fact that he might not have enjoyed something she did, that was what she had dedicated a lot of her time to. To hear that he was not as happy as she wished him to be made her feel a bit hollow.

But then Erik parted his lips and started to sing. Christine stared at him, shocked. In all her years with Erik she knew that he had a beautiful singing voice, he had a good knowledge if how to train her voice and he spoke wonderfully, so she just assumed his voice was beautiful. She had heard him hum along with her, trying to get her to understand the rhythm and pacing of certain pieces, trying to make her reach the right note.

But now he was singing, truly singing. Christine watched, transfixed as his Godly voice possessed her. It made her lips part in shock. Her breath slowed and she listened, hypnotized as he raised his voice to the top of the lair, that _beautiful_ voice…! He ushered words out strangely as if he were experiencing a fever, almost hissing them out, but then his voice would become almost watery, making her feel limp.

"Night time, sharpens, heightens each sensation, _darkness_ stirs, and wakes imagination. Silently the senses, abandon their defenses." Erik's voice drifted lightly, Christine looked at the music sheet and sang along with him to the best of her ability:

"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it; sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day; turn your thought away from cold unfeeling light. And listen to the music of the night." Erik silenced himself and allowed Christine to sing to sing on her own, "Close your eyes, and surrender to your darkest dreams. Purge your thought of the life you knew before. Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar," she paused, staring at him as he focused on the keys, "and you'll live, as you've never lived before."

He nodded, and continued on his own. By the time he sixth verse Christine was drifting on his shoulder. His voice was just lulling her, he was singing so softly… _He sings like a wounded angel… _Christine thought as she fell into a deep slumber.

The dark figure stiffened when her head touched the top of his arm. He rarely allowed her to touch him, and when she did he always felt like he was about to fall to pieces. "Floating, falling, sweet intoxication, touch me, _trust me_, savor each sensation, let the dream begin, let your darker side give in, to the power of the music that I write. The power of the music of the night…" He sighed.

"Christine," he murmured gently, trying to wake her as quietly as he could. He knew that if he wanted to make her wake up at this very moment, he was only keeping his voice so low so that she may stay there at his side. Carefully Erik maneuvered and arm around her small waist and one under the back of her knees. Erik made sure to hold her slightly away from his body.

Erik made his way into the darkness of his lair with a solemn mind. He did not know that Christine could handle the certain levels of attention that she would reach when she debuted, and he was not sure that he could deal with it either. When he reached her bed he set her carefully down until she sunk into the pillows. Then he pulled away, _"You alone can make my song take flight... Help me make the music of the night."_

* * *

**Woo! So there is the first chapter of our older Christine's life, merely an introduction to the set of events that will take place :) SADLY i was not able to go see Phantom of the Opera because I didn't order the tickets early enough but I think I will be going this Friday. :) **

So tell me what you think!

**_Questions:_**

_1) What are the first things you notice about adult Christine's personality. _

_2) Do you like her so far? _

_3) And what do you think about Erik and Christine's new dynamic? (considering how he is starting to notice how attractive Christine is and how soon she will debut in front of an audience?)_

**TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK :) Things will be picking up in the next chapter :) **


	12. Don Juan Fails

**Chapter XII**

**Christine**

"These things _'happen'_ all the time!" Carlotta shrieked in fury. Christine and Meg could hardly contain their laughter as the redheaded woman angrily pointed at the fallen set piece near her body. If it had fallen on her it wouldn't have been a laughing matter, she would have probably had a few bruises, but it was her rage that Christine found hilarious.

Carlotta had been performing a song in front of the new managers, who Christine found to be more than ignorant about the way things worked in this Opera House, when suddenly a set piece almost fell on her. Instantly people looked up to the man in the scaffolding above them, Joseph Buquet. He angrily pointed out that he was not in charge of set pieces actually on the stage and that he had nothing to do with it.

"Senora –

"No!" Carlotta shrieked, throwing on her scarf in a flourish with a red face, "The_r_e will be no pe_r_formance until this Ope_r_a Ghost is taken ca_r_e of!"

Christine rolled her eyes, _Opera Ghost? How silly. _

"Senora, you're our star!" Monsieur Firmin begged with her, his slicked back hair glistened against the light of the chandelier, "We need you!"

"You will not have me until this is taken ca_r_e of!" Carlotta yelled with fury and then stomped off wildly towards the exit, the two managers stared after her with shock and outrage as she stomped and muttered under her breath.

Everyone stood silent and shocked as well.

"We're ruined!" Monsieur Andre, the shorter plumper man with the upturned moustache on his upper lip and the bald scalp cried, "Our first production and we must cancel!"

"This is a catastrophe!" Agreed Monsieur Firmin and put his fingers between his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose, "a disaster!"

"Christine Daae could sing it, Sir!" Meg suddenly leaped forward.

Christine's eyes bulged as she turned to Meg in a state of shock, "Meg!"

"A chorus girl? I do not think so." Andre disagreed, "She does not have training-

"She has been well taught," Madame Giry stepped forward now. Christine stood frozen and stared at Madame Giry with fear, _Erik is not here, how will I sing when Erik is not here? I have never done this before except in front of Meg – _Christine thought as her heart sped up.

"Daae? A curious name, any relation to the violinist?" Firmin asked with an interested gaze.

"My father, Sir." Christine squeaked through her tight throat.

"Well we must give her an opportunity, unless you wish to cancel the production without knowing what could possibly happen." Monsieur Firmin stated with a look of defeat towards his partner.

"Alright, sing Think of Me, Miss Daae." One of them said, she did not know who, she was only staring at the floor with shaking hands as they pointed her to where she should stand and handed her the multicolored scarf. She looked to the wings, fear coloring her heart horribly. This was not going to turn out well if Erik was not here!

The music started and Christine struggled to not run off the stage at that moment, as soon as she opened her mouth the sound was unnatural, she heard the groans behind her, "Think of me, think of me fondly w-when we've said goodb-ye."

…

_What was she doing? _Erik's hands fisted angrily. _You know better than this Christine! Have I taught you nothing! _

Her posture was all wrong! She was slightly hunched, and she was gazing nervously around the auditorium, looking for what, he had no idea. But then again, he did not care to find out, Erik glared angrily, willing her to straighten up and _sing_! She was ruining everything they had worked for! Her face was a perfect statue of confusion and fear. What was wrong with her!

"Remember me ever so of-_ten_." Her tone cracked. Erik stepped forward from the shadows with an angry gaze, willing her to look up at him now. _Look at me Christine –_ he silently bid her, _breathe deeply, straighten up and _sing_ Girl!_

He watched Christine take a deep breath and then her eyes wandered over the auditorium again, now higher up, it seemed she caught something because her wide eyes suddenly narrowed and then widened again as one of the managers groaned and turned his back to the singing girl.

_"And on that day, that not so distant day, when you are far away and free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me." _

_Yes Christine…_

**…**

Her voice cleared and soared as she sang. She heard the gasps behind her as she controlled her voice and stared up at the yellow orbs in the distance. It was Erik, she knew it was Erik. Christine smiled broadly now, "We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea. But if you can still remember – stop and think of me. Think of all the things we've shared and seen. Don't think about the way things might have been."

"You've got the part!" Cried out Firmin.

**…**

"_Ange! Ange!_" Christine's voice was hushed but excited in the dressing room as she waited impatiently for him. He smiled slightly behind the mirror and pulled it open with little difficulty. Christine's eyes widened at him as she stepped through the mirror and took off into a rapid speech, "Did you see me? I saw you! I did not think that I could do it but then I – I think I saw you, was it you in the upper parts of the auditorium? I thought it was you. Did you hear me? I sang for you." Her voice was fervent as the shadowed figure watched her with mild amusement.

"I saw you," he said smoothly, "I heard you." He added, he took a deep breath at the sight of her grin, "you were wonderful."

"It's all because of you, you know that Erik, right?" Her hands reached forward for his, she took them in the dark. "Thank you Erik." She whispered with a teary gaze.

Then she embraced him.

_What is she doing?_

Erik's entire body felt that it had become ice. It was very painful to breathe with her body pressed against his. He was certain he would faint for a moment, he had not had her do this since she was a child, and now as an adult woman it caused him to shudder, he could feel the pressure of her breasts against his chest. It took everything in him to not groan with the foreign feeling and the sense of confusion that swirled inside him.

Her hair smelled like fresh air, further teasing him about the things he might never have.

"Christine," he said with a stern voice, "we must practice."

Christine pulled away quickly, a blush colored her face, "Yes, yes Erik." She watched him as he turned on his heels and took off into the darkness of the tunnel towards the lake. She sighed heavily, _what overtook me just then? I should not have held him that way. Erik does not like being touched… _but Christine could not get the feel of Erik's powerful form crushed to her out of her head as she was with him in the boat. Even as she ranted about the play itself and how unbelievable it was that she had gotten the part.

That night after her practice with Erik she lay in bed quietly, she could not get to sleep, she could still feel his light breath stirring through her curls and touching her skin. It was very warm, and after a few seconds it had stopped altogether and she knew he wasn't breathing anymore.

His arms had never returned her embrace, which made her think instantly of how wrong she was to embrace him. She imagined however, that if he did return the embrace she would be able to feel the power beneath the fabric of his clothing easily, _crushing me further to his frame._

She turned angrily in her bed. _I should not be having these thoughts. Erik would not approve, father would not approve. I do not approve!_

And yet she could not stop thinking about it. She just continued twisting and turning in her bed with a pooling feeling in her stomach as she remembered the masked mans breath at her neck. She felt a strange pressure between her thighs and groaned into her pillow. _What in the world was this?_

And what was it that he had sung so perfectly to her? _Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight. _Erik's voice was a horrible teasing in her head, she glared into the dark. She would fight whatever _this_ was, Erik did not wish to be touched, and so she would obey. This darkness, whatever it was – was not going to torture her forever.

Christine was finally able to fall asleep after saying a small prayer and thinking of the upcoming performance set to occur in two days.

**…**

Erik couldn't sleep in his room either.

_I am evil incarnate- _Erik thought grimly as he sat hunched on his bed. It was as if Christine's arms were still around him. He could feel them there. He could feel the pressure of her body against his and her womanly form-

"No, no, no, _no_!" He growled deeply at the clenched feeling of his trousers, it was only getting worse! _I am the most terrible kind of monster. A weak, pathetic, creature who cannot handle the embrace of a woman without reacting like a boy, _and yet the strained feeling did not go away. He stood and walked around his room, pacing angrily. _Why would she grab me that way anyway, has she no idea what she might do to a man such as myself, is she so naïve! _

The feeling tightened as he thought of her form pressed flush up against him. Erik pressed his forehead against the wall with frustration. He did his best to think of things that were not Christine, and even this did not work. She was still there, lingering in his psyche horribly.

"Oh, Christine…" He whispered thickly, resisting the urge to touch himself. Instead Erik lay down in the bed and did his best to try and sleep. When he could not he dove into composing for _Don Juan Triumphant._

* * *

**A short chapter that holds a lot of tension (in my opinion) but do you want to know why it's so short?  
Because I'm leaving to go to Broadway and see Phantom of the Opera with Sierra in a few minutes! I'm so excited, I'm tempted to try and record a bit for you guys but I know it will be nearly impossible! I wanted to make this one longer but I could not, I promise you however that the next chapter will be longer :) **

**I'M SO EXCITED TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE PERFORMANCE!**

**Questions: **

**1) Who is your favorite Phantom? Mine is Ramin Karimloo and then Ben Lewis.**

**2) Do you think that Erik is wrong to feel aroused by the sudden contact? And would he have been wrong to 'take care' of it? **

**Many would argue that it would be wrong, but others would say no, we're all mature, so let's discuss this!**

**Review!**


	13. Closer

**Chapter XIII**

Every day after rehearsals Christine returned with a sleepy gaze and no energy in her limbs. Erik noticed, but took no pity on her. He made her practice relentlessly for her upcoming performance. He noticed her struggling to hit certain notes and glared at the woman by his piano. "Am I boring you, Christine?"

She looked to him with a solemn gaze, "I am so tired Erik. I have been singing these songs all day and would like to sleep."

"Your performance is at eight tomorrow night Christine," he informed her sharply, "if you fall asleep now you will be tired by nine, and your performance ends at ten. You will not sleep yet. But you will not waste time either. Now, straighten up." She did as he said with a weary gaze, "Annunciate when you sing the third line."

"Erik-

"Tomorrow is your debut Christine!" He exclaimed at her, ignoring how she jerked at the suddenness of his tone, "There is no time to fool around. I want to make sure that you are perfect for tomorrow night. I will be watching from my box and I expect perfection. Now, sing your lines the way I taught you."

The next few hours drew on that way. He was pleased to see her fighting through her exhaustion and nodded when she finished the last song, he had kept his eyes closed and when he opened them he found Christine staring at him, a look of longing on her face. "Please tell me I did well."

"You did well." He told her. "_Now_ you may go and sleep."

Christine bid him goodnight and trudged to her bedroom, she did not bother to change into other clothes, she let her hair down and threw herself to the bed, shutting her eyes instantly.

**…**

This was the day of her debut.

Christine stared at herself in the mirror with a wary stare. This was it.

Tonight she would stand before the audience and sing.

Erik stood in the shadows of her dressing room with his amber eyes on her. He was completely silent, watching her as she did her best to calm her nerves. He allowed her the silence because he knew that if he spoke he would only pressure her, and he would not risk ruining her moment.

"_Miss Daae! It's time!"_ She heard the knocking on her door and she stood with a self assured look. Her eyes wandered to Erik with a look of complete bliss.

"You will be perfect." Erik said in his silky voice. She smiled and wordlessly moved towards the door. "I will be in my box." He told her gently. Christine nodded and opened the door, gracefully moving towards the stage.

Her breath was coming out shallow, and she worried that she wouldn't be able to catch it as she made her way to the stage. It got worse the closer she got. She stopped walking altogether.

_I cannot do this. I will not do this well… _Her fear took over her and her entire body stilled. _I am a failure. _Her hands trembled horribly.

But no! Erik was counting on her. Her father was watching… Christine swallowed and took one deep shaky breath and skated towards the stage, right on cue.

**…**

Raoul watched with amazement as the beautiful woman opened her painted mouth and released pretty words laced in an even more beautiful soprano voice, "Think of me," she softly sang, "think of me fondly – when we've said goodbye." His eyes widened as she turned in his general direction in his box. It was such a familiar face, a face that he could never forget.

_Christine…_

The awkward looking girl had grown to be as exquisite as he ever thought she would be. Her eyes were wide, blue and ethereal. She was a thin woman with soft curves on her sides and her hair, that long brown hair… "Christine…" he whispered with memories of the girl. _Does she remember me? I remember her… oh God how I remember her. _He scarcely heard his own thoughts as her angelic singing drowned them out.

"Remember me once in a while; please promise me, you'll try." She sang out, "On that day, that not so distant day, when you are far away and free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me ..." she smiled at the audience beautifully, "And though it's clear, though it was always clear that this was never meant to be, if you happen to remember, stop and think of me ...Think of August when the trees were green - don't think about the ways things might have been ..."

She wore a strangely intricate gown, and her curly hair was pulled away from her face. It made her even more exquisite.

The song went on and on, captivating Raoul into a state of complete stillness, except that he found himself leaning forward to get a better look at her. But he had the best view in the entire auditorium! He was in the box directly in front of Box Five on the other side of the stage, and yet it felt as though he could not see her at all. He released a hard breath as Christine reached the end of the song, "Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade. They have their seasons, so do we. But please promise me that sometimes you will think…. Ooof- ooof- oo_of_- _ooof! Me!"_

Raoul leapt to his feet with the rest of the stunned and adoring crowd, "Bravo! Bravo!" He cried out adoringly as Christine shyly blushed under the light of the stage and bowed towards the crowd with a beautiful grin on her face. They threw roses at her feet and she picked them up with a smile and tears in her pretty blue eyes. He breathed harder as she looked around; he hoped she would see him.

"Christine! Christine!" He called but she could not hear him over the roaring of the crowd, they were going mad for her. The managers behind him were awe struck as they observed the audience clapping like wild creatures.

**…**

Christine was dragged off the stage by Meg who pulled her past her adoring cast mates. Christine looked as though she might faint from the adrenaline of the stage lights and the roaring crowd that they could still hear so clearly.

"Leave her alone!" Meg demanded as someone called her name. She pulled Christine into her dressing room; Christine collapsed into the chair a faint look on her face. "Oh Christine you were perfect!"

"Thank you," Christine mumbled with a distant look, she clutched the roses in her arms almost possessively.

"Are you quite alright?" Meg asked her with a worried look, "You look a bit pale."

"I just need to be alone for a few moments if you do not mind Meg. Thank you for help me back here, I doubt I would have made it on my own." The brunette mumbled with a sweet smile towards her best friend, "And you were beyond wonderful tonight as well. I envy you."

"Oh please," Meg rolled her eyes and kissed Christine on the cheek, "I must be going. Goodnight Christine!"

Christine nodded at her and as soon as Meg left she turned to the mirror and dropped the flowers to the dresser. She could still hear the roaring of the crowd, and she could also faintly hear her cast mates outside of her door. They were saying how wonderful she was tonight, she could distinctly hear muttering of Carlotta's name.

But that wasn't the name on her mind, she wanted to see Erik. Surely he was pleased, she felt the music tonight, she had sang for him and him alone, her eyes had wandered to box five and she swore she saw his eyes there but she was unsure.

"Erik are you here?" She whispered.

Then she heard his voice, singing perfectly, quietly, "Brava…. Brava…" the next word sent a shiver down her body and a sense of heat to her thighs, "_Bravassima_…" he purred.

A sudden knocking at her door scared Christine up onto her feet. She eyed the door and called a gentle, 'come in!'

The door pushed open to reveal a man wearing a white shirt with ruffles going down the middle. His suit was dark with buttons on either side. He wore a satin gold colored vest buttoned around his waist and shiny black shoes.

"Christine Daae, where is your scarf!"

**…**

His hair was wavy with a slight golden brown color, honey to be exact. And his eyes were a sparkly hazel color, his skin was a pretty fair tone and his jaw bone strong and boyish. He looked young, but he was still a man by the looks of his broad chest and his proud stance.

She stared at the man with confusion. "Monseiur?"

"You can't have lost it, not after all the trouble I took to get it."

That's when she knew it was Raoul, the silly smirk on his face, and the twinkling stare. Her scarf… "You had jumped into the brook to fetch my scarf! Oh, Raoul, it is you!" Christine jumped when he suddenly reached forward and embraced her gently. She wrapped her arms hesitantly around his neck and returned the embrace with a grin plastered on her face. Completely forgetting of the ghostly presence somewhere around the room

"Christine it has been much too long. You were wonderful." He told her with a soft tone. She blushed and pulled away, he did not release her hand, "however did you master your voice?"

"The angel of music," she explained gently, "My papa always promised that I would be visited by the angel of music, and it has been as he said."

"I agree," he told the beautiful woman with a smile, completely enchanted by her. "We must go to supper. I must get my hat!"

She blinked and grabbed his hand fiercely before he could turn away, "I cannot," she explained hurriedly, "My Guardian is very strict."

"Not this again," he laughed, she shivered – remembering how that had turned out the last time. "I shan't keep you late!" Raoul explained as he headed towards the door. Christine's eyes widened.

"No, Raoul… I cannot defy him!"

"You must change." He told her, turning with a smile, not hearing or choosing to ignore, "I must get my hat: Two minutes, Christine." And with that he strode out the door, closing it behind him.

Christine stood there for a long moment. Her breathing becoming heavy and her lips trembling with fear. She could feel a horrible pressure in her chest, Raoul had returned to her, and Erik had never left her life. Raoul had not just returned, _but_ he had returned more determined than ever… Erik remained as strict as ever.

"Things have not changed Raoul…" She whispered as she slumped to her seat before the mirror in the silence.

_His_ voice unexpectedly rang out, "_Insolent boy_!" He hissed, "That slave of fashion, basking in your glory!" Her body seized, "Ignorant _fool_! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph! _How dare he_!"

"Erik!" Christine jumped to her feet, gathering her roses and looking around her in confusion. "_Ange_, I hear you! Speak – tell me you were happy with the performance. My soul was weak forgive me.. I did not know how to deny him through my surprise at his sudden appearance." There was a pause as her breath became shallow; she feared he had left, "Please show yourself."

"Flattering child," his voice called to her gently, she could hear what she believed to be satisfaction in his tone, _but is he satisfied that I denied Raoul with the best of my ability, or that I want him pleased? _"I am more than pleased. Let us not talk of _him_ anymore…" the mirror started sliding open. Erik stood there with his hand already outstretched in her direction, "come to me." She took his hand obediently.

**…**

They did not share words until she was in front of the piano. He had plopped down as if he were suddenly exhausted. She couldn't help but noticed how gentle he looked when he shut his closed "Did you like my performance?" She whispered, finding that it was so silent that speaking would have seemed loud.

"You surpassed all my expectations. You became one with me in that instant Christine, we shared the stage together. I felt your voice as much as I heard it." That was an understatement he knew. He had felt high off of Christine's voice as he watched her, his vision felt sharpened and his body numbed like the days of his youth when he was addicted to his poison... but she was his drug now.

She nodded, accepting this with a blush. He struggled to remove his eyes from Christine during the performance, but he did not want to at all. But now he was finding it more difficult now that she wore this dress, it exposed her collarbone to his eyes and every time she took a breath it was like a horrible teasing at his self control.

"I bought you something." He said suddenly.

"You did not have to do that." She whispered with a look in his direction again. Erik's eyes burned in her path and he stood abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her in the direction of her bedroom. When they reached it he sat her in front of her mirror. She sat there, expectant.

"I hope it is to your liking." He said softly, she barely heard him; sometimes his voice could be so soft, so silky, that it was indistinguishable from the silence itself.

Erik reached for something behind him on the bed, she hadn't noticed it when she first entered the room and then she gasped.

He held in his hands am extravagantly large, glittering – jeweled necklace. It was unbelievable! His hands gently placed the large collar like piece around her neck, she shivered when the necklace touched her throat, wrapping tightly around. The necklace went down until it touched the base of her exposed chest. Black jewels were framed in gold, or at least she believed it to be gold.

"Does it please you?" He asked, reaching around her. She thought him darkly handsome in his black suit and his mask. _There is something undeniably attractive about my Ange…_ she thought as he reached around to touch the jewels on her throat. Her lips parted, shocked at the beauty of it, it looked expensive beyond imagining..., "If it does not I can return it."

"It pleases me, Angel. Thank you." She whispered gently and turned to look up at him, he stared down at her, stoic and phenomenal in his white mask. "It is more than I deserve."

"You deserve it." He said almost demandingly , very close to her ear, she could feel Erik's warm breath skating against her neck and bent carefully over her, "But I would ask one more thing of you."

Christine's nodded, "anything, _Ange_."

"Yes…" he purred almost, "I am your Ange Christine, but we must be wary now that the boy has returned with his foolish intentions. Even I cannot protect you from his mind." Erik's face darkened, _he must understand that you are not his, _"you must wear this." He slipped his ring off his finger and took her hand quickly. She watched with wide eyes as he slipped the ringer onto her middle finger.

**…**

"You must never remove it Christine," _it is a warning to them all, _he stared down at her with a fervent gaze, her wide blue eyes were curious, she looked down at her hand, at the opal black ring that had for so long graced his finger, _I will not allow them to taint you, _"Promise me."

"I promise Erik," she whispered, looking up at him with an adoring gaze.

_Yes Christine… look at me this way for as long as I live and I will die happily. _

He kneeled gently before her, taking both her hands into his own, he hated the way his hands trembled while hers were so calm, she gripped his hands to try to stop their shaking. "What has you so worried?" She asked, reaching up, and courageously stroking the unmasked side of his face.

He let out a breath of shock and then stiffened. She stopped her movements, she made a movement to remove her touch but he leaned into her palm, allowing her sweet caresses. _So… gentle. Oh Christine, my angel… my angel…_

"That boy has returned…" He murmured, "That world knows of you voice now… they will stare at you, and want you, and the lure of them will rip you away –

"That will never happen." She told him firmly, holding his face strongly, he met her gaze, "I will never abandon you here Erik."

"Swear it to me, Christine," he begged his voice something in between desperate and demanding. He grabbed her hand and pressed it tightly against his cheek, desperate for the warmth and the truth, she was really here touching his face, his horrible face. But she was shielded from that side, she touched only what was safe. Christine shivered at the feel of his cool skin against hers, his skin was not as smooth as her own, but it felt like a gift to touch him, "Swear it to me-

"I swear Erik, I swear." She whispered, stroking his unmasked cheek gently. She smiled as he stood, taking her hands.

"No one can ever rip us apart." His voice was not as gentle now, his amber orbs were burning into her. His voice darkened, "no one understands your life like I do Christine."

She nodded, swallowing, feeling the heavy ornament at her throat bob as she did, "no one…"

"It must always be you and I." _Just you and I… please._

"Yes…"

_Yes… Ah Christine, you are everything. I'll be damned if I let harm come to you. They can have whatever else they wish, but they cannot have you. For I found you, I saved you. I had you first… _My_ Christine…_

Erik noticed Christine's breath had become shallow, and then to his shock he realized he was horribly close to her. He could smell her soft sent, he could distinctly make out the roses that she had hugged so closely to him… and something else… she faint scent of Raoul de Chagny's cologne. She stared up at him, her body was close… too close…

"Goodnight Christine." He said sharply.

She blinked as he pulled away from her and strode towards the door; he did not wait for her to return the statement before he shut the door and to his organ.

That night Christine dreamed of Erik, and somewhere Raoul loomed too.

* * *

**Hi my lovelies! I am so happy that you've been enjoying this story and I promise that the next chapter will indeed have Mr. de Chagny - how could I leave him out? haha**

**SO I WENT TO SEE THE POTO performance with SIERRA last night. And, my GOD Sierra is an angel, there are no other words to describe how.. .absolutely breathtaking her voice is, it's incredible. SO I'll tell you my story.**

**So I get on the bus at 5:30 to take me to NYC (I live in NJ, but I was born and raised in Manhattan), the performance was for 8:00. So Then naturally there is a bunch of traffic to get into NYC, so I get there at 7:10, and I met up with my friend and we went to broadway. The lines were WRAPPED basically almost around the block and they started going up and down (the ushers) telling us that if we had ordered online we had to go to the ticket booths to get our tickets.**

**So I get there and they tell me i ordered tickets for the 24th and the date was the 25! I was so mad I was like, WTF! So then they tell me to ask for the manager.**

**I wait for a while, anxious because I'm thinking 'omg the performance is going to start and I might not even get to see it!' So the manager comes and he is the SWEETEST MAN, he's like "what happened?" and I am like on the verge of tears but I calmly explained that I ordered the wrong tickets and he told me "well at least your honest. But to tell you the truth we're sold out so I don't think there are any tickets for you." So I was like :"( and he goes "but maybe I can pull some chairs out for you. let me see what I can do." **

**So I wait and wait and then he comes to me and says "luckily we have two seats empty, and you and your friend have tickets in the same place, isn't that amazing?" So I thanked him profusely, ran upstairs and sat my ass down.**

**AND THEN THE SHOW STARTED..**

**HOLY. MOTHER. OF ERIK. It was... BEAUTIFUL! I was going in with low expectations of Hugh Panaro because I had listened to him on Youtube and didn't like his voice but the truth is that NOTHING does any of them justice except for listening to them live. Hugh was AMAZING, his Phantom is very unique because Ben Lewis' Phantom is intimidating where Ramin's is very dark and sensual, but Panaro's is... eerie and truly truly eerie. **

**And then I saw Sierra. I'm just such a baby I started tearing, she was sooo beautiful, and her voice! Unbelievable. I am BEGGING you, if you're in the Tri-state area, or anywhere where Sierra OR ANYONE really is performing Phantom of the Opera, GO SEE IT. It's UNBELIEVABLY funny and romantic and entertaining.**

**It really makes you appreciate the ENTIRE thing more.**

**And I'm SO sorry if my sentences don't make sense but I'm SO tired that Iam not even making sense.**

**But seriously, Phantom of the Opera, is the most beautiful musical I have ever seen. Please go watch it, it's simply breathtaking.**

**:) **

**REVIEW? Pwease hahA! **

**Questions:**

1) Why do you think Erik pulled away from Christine so abruptly?

2) Do you think that they are aware of the electricity between the two of them completely?

ALSO, I will be posting an image of Christine's necklace on my page :) head there to see it. 


	14. Authority

**Chapter XIV**

**Christine**

The crowd simply adored her, or at least that is what the managers told her when she made her way to the surface. She had gone to their lavishly styled office, hoping to know if she would get any other dates and she was showered with compliments.

"You were magnificent!" Monsieur Andre clapped his hands together as he told her, "They want you and you only! They are insatiable."

"I am very flattered," Christine blushed.

"And Monsieur de Chagny has been relentless in his pursuit of having a word with you as well Miss Daae," Firmin told her with a raised brow, "after your performance he seemed crazed stating that you were not in your dressing room where he had left you."

"I had to leave, it was very late and I was tired." She murmured, looking towards her hands with a shy look in her face.

They bid her farewell after explaining to her that she has two more shows, one the following afternoon and the next two days after that. It gave her time to rest her voice.

As Christine made her way to her dressing room her thoughts were filled with Raoul de Chagny. She wondered where he was now, if he was looking for her at the moment… if he was truly as crazed with the need to find her as the managers suggested. It gave her a strange feeling to know that he was so interested in her friendship that he would go out of his way to find her.

When she reached the dressing room she heard a dark chuckle behind her. For the slightest moment she thought it to be Erik and turned around with a smile on her face, but instead she came face to face with Joseph Buquet.

His scraggly beard popped forth into the light before his face did. The man stood at least six feet tall, towering over anyone in the opera, and his stench should have given him away before his face did as it was his most powerful asset. His dark eyes leered at Christine with a look foreign to her eyes; she frowned, sensing something was wrong as he took carefully measures steps towards her.

"Christine Daae," the man rasped at her. She winced away from the sound. "Don't look so scared girl, I came only to compliment you on your performance. Ya' sang better than an angel."

Christine smiled at the man with the dirty apron and the wandering gaze, "thank you, you are very kind to say so." She noticed Joseph stepping forward slightly, his eyes transfixed by hers, "I must be taking my leave, monsieur."

"Well why might that be in a dressin' room then?" The man asked with confusion and interest. Christine could feel her back pressed against the dressing room door now, her hands searched shakily for the door knob, trying hard to find it. When she finally did she twisted it but to her shock Buquet reached forward and grasped her hand in his dirty one.

"Please-

"Why in the dressin' room?" He asked again, his breath skated over her face and she held her breath again the urge to gag. "Answer me little Dove," he rasped and then to her horror touched her face. She trembled horribly.

"I just needed to gather a few things before I could take my leave; I believe I left something there."

"Aren't ya' afraid of the opera ghost?" He almost had his body pressed up against hers, she didn't like this.

"You're out of line, sir." She spit out, her eyes becoming hard.

Buquet raised a bushy eyebrow and grinned, "a fighter-

"Step away from her this instant!" She heard an angry voice call out. She looked towards the darkness behind Buquet who jumped back instantly and found Raoul striding forward from the darkness and into their circle of light before the dressing room door.

"Raoul!" She cried and leaped away from Joseph and to Raoul, he grasped her hand and tugged her behind him instantly, his eyes sizing up Buquet and his voice fierce.

"How dare you!" Raoul spit out angrily, "You owe miss Daae an apology. This instant!"

Joseph seemed to size Raoul up as well, wondering how long it would take for him to overpower the smaller man and then beat him into submission like the little dog he was. He seemed to think better of it and simply grinned, exposing his black teeth, "my apologies Miss Daae, I wish ya' both a wonderful day." He then stalked past them, causing Christine to flinch away from him as he smiled at her.

"Christine!" Raoul turned angrily towards her; she blinked in surprise, "How foolish of you, do you know what that man could have done if I were not here to help you? Do you think for a moment of the things that could happen to a young woman such as yourself without someone to protect her?" His eyes blazed, "Christine are you so naïve?"

She became defensive as pulled her cloak tighter around her, "there is nothing dangerous in these halls except Buquet, and he would not have attempted anything with the presence of the managers in the Opera House-

"The managers are in the _opposite_ side of this Opera House!" Raoul argued with a heated voice, "The man is insane! And did you not think about the _Opera Ghost?_!"

Christine blanched.

Then burst into a small fit of giggles.

Raoul looked at her with a glare, and then a blush, "forgive me Raoul, I do not mean to laugh at you, but an Opera Ghost? A phantom of the Opera? Have you completely lost your senses?"

"It is very true Christine, do not laugh at me." He said seriously, and then met her gaze shyly, "I only wished to come here to see if I could find you. When I went to the manager's office they told me they had seen you going in this direction… where did you escape to the night of the performance Christine? I had asked you to have supper and when I returned the dressing room was completely empty."

"No Raoul," her voice became just as serious, "you did not ask me. You simply took an answer out of my mouth and assumed that I would have supper with you."

Raoul's eyes widened and then he shifted from foot to foot. He swallowed, "is there a reason you avoid me Christine?"

Christine's eyes roamed to the darkness of the Opera House, there were very few people in the Opera House in the early hours of the day and because of this they did not turn the lights on. But she wished they did, the darkness was only comforting with Erik in it.

"Answer me!" Raoul exclaimed, losing his patience.

"Fine then Raoul," she said with a determined gaze that made him frown, "if you recall the last time I saw you in the days of our childhood I was kicked out to the streets like the common dog. I was degraded and embarrassed."

"I-

"I do not blame you for this, please do not think I do," her voice softened even though her eyes remained stone, "but I also have a guardian, and if I do not see you outside of this Opera House it is not because I am angry with you over that. It is because _he_ is angry at _you_ over that. You convinced me to disobey him, Raoul, do you recall?" He nodded, swallowing, "And I followed along. I will never again disobey his wishes."

Raoul stared with shock now, "But Christine you and I are best friends!"

"Best friends?" She choked out, "Raoul you and I know nothing of each other anymore! We were not best friends, we were kids! _Becoming_ acquainted! Do not suggest we are best friends as if though we know each other so well when we know absolutely nothing of one another-

"Does that mean that you must avoid me?" He stepped forward now, his eyes burning down at her, "The Christine Daae I knew would-

"You did not know Christine Daae then, and you do not know Christine Daae now." Christine's jaw tightened.

"I wish only to have supper Christine, is that so horrible?!"

"Raoul, please cease this!" She cried out, losing her patience. "I must be taking my leave, and I do not wish to end things badly with you-

"You know you wish to eat with me. Please Christine," He grasped her hands tightly in his, "Please meet with me. I implore you!" His eyes became sad. "You are a grown woman Christine; your guardian must come to respect that."

She became confused, "what do you mean?"

Raoul's eyes widened and he babbled, "I mean that you must simply… come to your independence and have dinner with whomever you wish—I wish you to come eat with me. Your guardian must give you some freedom Christine. It is strange that a woman of your age is kept locked away from the world. That is all."

She bit her lip and sighed, looking at him with exhaustion, "Raoul, I will ask him. But that is all that I can do."

He grinned at her, "that is all I wish, Christine." She noticed his hand coming up to her face, and then his thumb stroking her cheek, she shivered at the warm touch of his fingers and pulled away only slightly, blushing, "You have grown up to be so-

"_R_aoul!" The familiar voice of Carlotta rang throughout the hall. Christine jumped as Raoul's hand retreated and he took a step away from Christine with a hardened gaze. "_R_aoul de Chagny!" Carlotta stepped forward from the darkness and her eyes stopped on Christine. They narrowed instantly and then she flew to Raoul's side with a huff. "Good day Ch_r_istine."

"Good day Carlotta," Christine answered, noticing how Raoul rolled his eyes at Carlotta, openly, and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "How are you?"

"I am well," Carlotta spit, "And you? I had wo_r_d f_r_om a few f_r_iends that you we_r_e chosen to sta_r_ in _my r_ole."

Christine smiled coyly, "yes."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I did."

"Good, because soon I shall be _r_eturning and then you will be back to being in the cho_r_us or a ballet gi_r_l. I have just signed on fo_r _the next two perfo_r_mances. " Christine's heart dropped. "The managers will info_r_m you late_r_ of that." She grinned as Christine flushed and became shaky.

Raoul noticed how Christine looked around nervously. He saw how she blinked rapidly and knew she was in distress, "Christine?"

"We must get going," Carlotta grinned at Christine, "my fiancée and I are having supper in with his family tonight. Come, _R_aoul," she grinned and tugged him away. He looked at Christine's shocked eyes with regret as his future wife led him away.

**…**

Christine sat in the kitchen silently as Erik prepared her a small meal. Her eyes were focused not on him, or what he was saying to her, instead she was thinking of how she would break the news about not having the part, how she would ask him for permission to see Raoul, and if she would tell him about Joseph Buquet. But she would keep Raoul's impending marriage to Carlotta to herself.

"Christine," Erik's voice cut her from her thoughts. She looked up to him with a confused gaze, he frowned, "where are your thoughts today?"

She bit her lip, "I have news, about my upcoming performances…" she whispered, he did not respond, "I went to see the managers as you know. They told me I had the next performances…. But as I was leaving I encountered… Raoul de Chagny." She noticed how his body seized up, "He and I were talking and he wants to meet me for-

"_No_." Erik spit and turned, resuming the meal and putting things down with more force than necessary.

"But Erik, I am a woman grown. I have the right to go out and eat with whomever-

"Are these things _he_ told you?" Erik asked, whirling around and glaring at her, "Did he fill your little head with these seemingly innocent phrases? Tell me, did you stop to think of what the connotation behind his words might be?"

"Erik I simply wish to have supper with a friend why is this so horrible? I do not understand what your worry is-

He hissed out, "my _worry_ has always been you. And now _Raoul de Chagny_," he spit his name out like it was acid on his tongue, "comes into the picture and wishes to rip you from the life you've known and into his own world of superfluous extravagance and selfishness! And you believe that he has your best interest at heart-

"He does not have my _worst_!" Christine jumped from her seat, angry. Angry that she would not perform, angry that they were still on this topic, angry that she had still not told him about the performances, angry that Raoul chastised her like a child for walking around the opera house, angry that Joseph Buqet stopped her from going into her dressing room. If she had been able to get to her dressing room then nothing with Raoul would have happened! "He simply wishes me to eat. You cannot stop me Erik!" Her voice was becoming hysterical.

His eyes flashed and he stepped forward the two short steps to reach her. She shrunk under his gaze, and then he let out a ghost smile, it struck her as arrogant, knowing, and sly, "I cannot?" She stepped backwards but found the back of her thighs against their dinner table, he continued approaching her. His face became serious again, "You will not meet with him."

"Erik I will go if I wish to." She dared to say in the silence.

"_How dare you_?" His voice sliced through her, his eyes sparkled dangerously, she shivered under his gaze, it made him want to groan when she looked up at him like that, _too beautiful, too tenacious,_ "after all that I have risked for you, you would violate my authority for an agreeable face and pretty eyes. Raoul de Chagny," he spit, "I would sooner listen to Carlotta sing then spend three minutes in his company!" _How I detest Raoul de Chagny! That imbecile!_

Carlotta's name made Christine flare up in anger, "I am a grown woman-

"You are like a _child_." He said lowly down at her, her blue eyes widened at him as he got in her face. "You do not know it, but you are sheltered from everything. For this reason, and these reason alone I will forgive your curiosity, but you will not go. You have to focus on your next performances Christine; we have no time for these little games." And with that he stepped away from her and turned to the meal he was preparing. Christine stared at him for a long time in silence, watching how he moved gracefully around the room.

**…**

He heard her sit back down on the chair heavily.

_I ought to smother Raoul de Chagny, that creature will destroy everything! Everything! Christine understands nothing and this is _my_ fault. She does not understand his flirtation, or his infatuation with her… damn him. _

"Why do you never let me see your face?" Christine asked suddenly. He felt his bone stiffen and soon he went rigid, _she's never concerned herself with my mask_. "I've lived with you here almost all my life and yet you do not allow me to see what lies beneath the mask."

Erik felt his hands clenching into fists, "You have never asked me about my mask before, now you suddenly wish to know. Why?"

"Curiosity," she answered, he turned to her and noticed how her hands were trembling, "I would not judge you for whatever lies beneath-

"Do not say that. Do not _ever_ say that!" Erik had reached the last of his patience, she jumped to her feet as he exclaimed, "You have pushed me very far today Christine! First with Raoul de Chagny," his name made him sick, "and now you wish to see what lies beneath the mask? What lies beneath the mask is horror and monstrosity. A distortion that caused even the woman who birthed me to spurn me in horror, she gave me a mask before she gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek or even a piece of cloth to keep me warm!" His eyes burned through her.

"Erik… I am not your mother… I would not shun you."

"You would Christine, I promise you." He stared at her sadly, her beautiful face was so gloomy as he walked towards her that he nervously reached up and held her face in his hands, turning it up to look at her. "Do not concern yourself with Raoul de Chagny. Do not concern yourself with my mask or my face." _Please do not concern yourself with my horrible face, please._ "These things will only serve to harm you," he stressed, "focus on your performance, for both of our sakes."

Christine stared up at her angel with tears brimming in her eyes. Courageously she reached up and touched the mask, his face went as still as stone, jerking away momentarily before becoming motionless again. She caressed the smooth mask and watched him shiver as if it was his very flesh. "I would never shun you Erik."

He said nothing to her, silently beckoning her to continue her gentle caresses. "Oh Christine, you do not know how tender you are… my face would repulse you." He resisted a shudder as Christine's other hand held his unmasked cheek, he wanted to _moan_ at the contact of her gentle fingers at his cheek. Christine stepped forward again until he had to look down at her as if he were staring at the floor. "Christine…"

"Erik, why do you fear me?" She asked gently, moving closer to him still and noticing how he backed away. But she would not release him, she followed him until he had nowhere to go, and by then he was looking down at her with a wide gaze, almost afraid, amazed, and angry. "I want to see your face."

He did not respond for a long time. His sharp features made her feel cold as he stared at her, expressionless, "Go to your room."

She stiffened and stepped away from him. "Erik-

"Go to your room." He repeated, turning his back to her, "I will bring you your food when it is ready."

She shivered there for a moment, and then bit the inside of her cheek. As she escaped she stopped to tell him that she would not be performing… but thought against it and left the room quietly.

When she reached her bedroom she shut the door and leaned against the door quietly.

In the kitchen Erik released his long contained moan, _she could never want you Erik, why do you allow your body to react to her._

__In her bedroom Christine threw herself down to the bed, _I wonder what Erik's lips feel like... they look so smooth, although half of his mouth is covered by the mask, but just the same... I would if he's ever even been kissed before. I haven't, even Meg has been kissed... No! I cannot think this way. Erik would never allow me to do such a thing... but my God, how I would love to find out what his lips feel like._

__Christine groaned quietly, at a strange heat spreading through her body as she thought about what Erik's hands would feel like on her waist. She drifted in and out of sleep.

In her dreams she fantasized that she stood in front of her dressing room door. Someone stepped forward from the shadows. She'd jump, remembering Joseph Buquet, but then she would turn around to find Erik standing there, his mask glistening in the dark. She'd only stare, unable to find her mouth, and then he'd step forward. She would find his hands suddenly at her hips, pushing her towards the door and then his hands would drift up, caressing her face and pressing her to the door more firmly.

She would wake every time to find her hands near her thighs, then she'd blush horribly and turn around to the other side of the bed.

_I am horribly inappropriate. I need to go to Church._

* * *

__**Aww poor Christine, so confused.**

**So As you noticed -she did not tell Erik about the fact that her role was taken away from her, and clearly so much is going on that Christine's worries are all over the place. SO - naturally, this is the perfect set up for something terrible to happen. muahahaa!**

**Review my angels! **

**Questions: **

**1. What do you think Raoul meant when he said that her guardian must come to respect that she is a grown woman?**

**2. IF you were in Christine's situation what do you think you would do to address your attraction towards Erik?**

**3. Did you think Raoul was engaged to Carlotta? **


	15. Christine's Lasso

**Chapter XV**

The day of the performance came and Erik still believed that she was to go up onto the stage. She excused herself to go to rehearsals, knowing that he would figure it out sooner rather than later. He would not hear her practicing, he would hear Carlotta singing the verses that were once Christine's.

She would make sure to go nowhere where he might catch her alone; instead she stayed around many people, letting him deal with the outrage without her there to bear it.

Christine did feel a bit guilty. She pondered as she sung with the chorus why it was that she was doing this to him, keeping him out of the loop this way. But then she remembered how he had spoken to her, the way he had _commanded_ her to go to her bedroom, the mistrust he had in her, and the way he thought her so cruel as to believe that she would shun him because of his face. _Let him deal with the anger, _she thought as she watched Carlotta opened her mouth and sing the aria.

Erik must have been enraged. She could picture him standing immobile in his lair, hands clenched around his fountain pen, ready to snap it in half.

When the hour of the performance came Christine stuck by the dancers knowing that Erik would not dare show himself. She changed quietly, smiling at the dancers when they told her how they hated Carlotta's shrieks and how they wished she had been singing instead. She wished she was singing too.

Christine performed perfectly, her footsteps falling exactly where they needed to and her hands in perfect posture. It was when she looked to the crowd and saw Raoul that she almost faltered but caught herself easily and continued with her dance.

Raoul's eyes were piercing her, she had to try and think of other things the entire time she performed.

When the performance was over she found herself dressing quicker than she ever had in her life. She would have to face Erik at some point. For the first time she really did not wish to face him. She feared what it was that would await her in her home and so she made up her mind to go visit Nadir instead. She had not seen the man in a few days and wished to speak with him about Erik's leash on her.

"Christine are you going to retire now?" Meg asked her as Christine tied her cloak quietly and thoughtfully.

"Yes, but first I must visit someone." She smiled.

"Do you wish me to walk you?"

"Oh that would be lovely Meg but it is getting dark and you live in the opposite way. I am sure that I will make it there just fine. There are still plenty of people in the streets." Erik would not dare come after her.

When Christine left the Opera House she was certain Erik was watching her. She swore that she felt his eyes in the back of her spine; daring her to walk farther from him as he was so helpless to stop her.

She did not care. She was a grown woman as Raoul had said… she was free to do as she wished.

When she made it to Nadir Khan's house she was more than welcomed, he smiled and pulled her inside to the warmth and instantly served her a cup of tea.

"Christine, does Erik know that you are here?" He asked when they had finished making small talk. By the look in her eyes, which was no look at all but a simple aversion of his eyes he knew the answer. "Oh Christine-

"You do not understand Nadir." She sighed, "This is not some attempt at a stupid rebellion. I am a grown woman Nadir, do you understand that?" He nodded, "Most women my age are either married, or _about to be_ married. They've at least shared a kiss with someone," she swore she saw the Iranian blush and his tea cup tremble at the conversation, "and they've at least had interest in another person unabashedly. And yet Erik hides me away beneath the Opera House and refuses to allow me the company of friends."

"Erik is very protective of you, that is all Christine," Nadir softly assured her.

"That is irrelevant," she told him, "I am tired of being treated like a child. I am not a child, if I wish to go out to supper with Raoul de Chagny I should be allowed to without Erik threatening to stop me." She looked to the windows with paranoia, and then back at Nadir, "I am not a child."

"Yes, and I know that, just as Erik knows that. But that is precisely the reason why Erik is so adamant and bent on keeping you away from Raoul de Chagny. He knows that you are a woman and I am certain he is aware of what Raoul would like to have from you."

"And what is that?" Christine asked with a sip of her tea. It burned her tongue.

"He wishes to court you. He has always expressed a certain interest in you Christine. But I am not certain that it is truly because of your personality as much as it is because of his own wish to rebel against his parents."

"That is foolish," she rolled her eyes; "Raoul is to be married to Carlotta. He wishes to be my friend and that is all."

Nadir stared at her for a long time, his eyes shining at her with confusion, "you do not know, do you?"

Christine stared at him, confused as well.

"Christine," Nadir set down his tea, "it is clear to anyone who has observed a happy fiancée that Raoul de Chagny is not at all interested in Carlotta. _She_ is infatuated with him, certainly, but he is not with her."

"Then why is it that they are to be married?" Christine asked.

"I do not know, but he is not interested in that vulgar woman."

Christine pondered this the rest of the night, and finally Nadir told her that she should return home, he insisted upon walking her, and she resisted but he would not relent.

He walked her quietly through the streets; he observed that Christine continuously looked around with fear in her eyes. He sighed, Erik would be very angry with her. He feared the man's temper, and was more afraid of what Christine's reaction might be at the sight of it. He had no doubt that Erik would lose his mind when Christine walked through to their home.

It was as soon as they were about to cross into the entrance of the Opera House that they felt a presence. Christine stiffened, knowing it was Erik, as did Nadir.

When they turned around they saw a figure stalking quickly to them. Slicked back hair coming out of the darkness and eyes piercing her.

"Christine!" Raoul exclaimed, coming out of the shadows. Christines eyes widened and Nadir Khan stiffened.

"Raoul? W-what are you doing here?" Christine stuttered, looking to Nadir with the same fear he had, _if Erik saw this man… Erik might not reign in whatever anger he already felt. _

"I am tired of you avoiding me Christine," he said passionately when he stopped in front of her, he looked to Nadir Khan with a strange gaze, "Good evening, Sir."

"Good evening, Monsieour de Chagny. I was just taking a stroll with Christine."

"Why to the opera house?" Raoul asked with confusion.

"We were just turning around," Christine muttered and then looked to Raoul with a heated gaze, "what in the world are you doing, Raoul?"

"I need to speak with you. Things ended badly last time and I need to explain a few things to you. Please, allow me the opportunity to clear any confusion from your mind-

"There is no confusion in my mind Raoul," her voice became soft, "please go back to your home."

Raoul stared at her with a hurt expression, it made her heart sink, and he looked to Nadir Khan with somber eyes. "May you give the lady and I some privacy, sir? This will only take a moment."

Nadir looked to Christine, then back at Raoul, "I cannot sir, her guardian-

"Enough of this _guardian_, Christine is a grown woman!" Raoul exclaimed, making Christine jump. "Christine, come, I must speak with you privately." He held out his hand. She looked at it with confusion as if she was unsure of what to do. But then she looked to Nadir and saw his expression, warning her to not do this. It angered her.

_Why must all my decisions revolve around me being kept away from Raoul because of Erik, Raoul is harmless. Erik has killed for me and the most Raoul has done is save my scarf – and yet they look at Raoul as if he were capable of harming me. _"Go home Nadir, I shall return to the Opera House in Raoul's company. I will be fine."

"Christine-

"I can make my own decisions." She stated firmly, making Raoul smirk slightly. "Goodnight," she kissed Nadir softly on the cheek, hugging him and that was all she said before she stole off with Raoul to the side of the Opera House. Nadir stood there with a trembling hand.

"Oh Christine," he muttered, stalking off into the night, _I only pray that Erik does not find you in that young man's company_.

**…**

"What is it Raoul?" She asked, avoiding his eyes when he stopped at the other side of the opera house and stared at her with a sad gaze, "You look as if I have wronged you somehow."

"You have Christine…" he whispered quietly, twiddling his thumbs and then looking up at her, "you have avoided me as if I have harmed you in some way and the last time we spoke I asked you to supper and you denied me."

She stared at him for a long time, trying to reign in her temper, _men, _she scoffed mentally, _as if a woman must simply agree to something because they ask nicely_. She opened her mouth to speak, "I did not wish to go out to supper."

"That is a lie." Raoul said with a cross of his arms, he looked just as stubborn as he did when his mother had forced Christine from their household. "You wish to eat with me and you will not because of this guardian you speak of. Christine, do you not think it odd that he, I imagine it to be a he, hides you away. I have waited for you every night to exit this opera house since the last time I saw you and only now do I find you outside of it! I have tried to find where you live and your guardian has it so well hid that not even the managers know where it is that you reside. Why do you allow this to be your life? You deserve a life of –

"You wish me to disobey my guardian." She stated firmly. "You wish me to be my own person and yet you stand here and you loathe the idea that perhaps I do not wish to go out to supper with you because _I_ do not want to. Has it occurred to you that perhaps this has been my own decision?" She saw the hurt flash in his eyes, "Am I wrong?"

"You are misinterpreting things Christine," he stepped closer to her now, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Step back sir," She warned him, this did not stop him from walking closer, "you are to be married, it is highly inappropriate to be here with you without the company of another gentleman as it is."

Raoul's eyes widened, "Christine you must let me explain-

"Raoul why do you find the need to explain!" She cried out, annoyed now, "You are to be married to Carlotta! And that is fantastic news! Please do not delude yourself into thinking that I am somehow jealous that she is to be your wife. That is not the case and I wish you to be happy. Why do you insist on pushing a friendship that cannot be?"

"Because you are _Christine_ and _I_ am Raoul!" He yelled at her. She jumped back against the wall as he closed the distance between the two of them. "I do not love that woman! I abhor her and her ways! You however have been a part of me since the first time I laid eyes on you-

"Raoul-

"You and I are one Christine," he grabbed her hands forcefully, jerking her forward until her dress was touching his legs, "your free spirit has been dimmed by this loathsome creature and I wish to set it free. You are a creature of radiance Christine and you have been washed out by this damnable man-

"How _dare_ you!" She exclaimed, tugging her hands away from him only to have him catch them again as she tried to make some distance between the two of them, "Do not ever presume to speak of him that way again!" She was trembling madly now, _no one can ever harm Erik, not even with words; I will not stand for it!_ "I will not stand here and allow you to defile him –

"Forgive me, my love." He whispered softly and kissed her hands when she had stopped struggling. He noticed how she stiffened at his words, "Please do not be angry with me."

"Raoul, you overstep your boundaries," she stated firmly when he straightened up to stare at her. She noticed his eyes on her lips. She did not like this; Raoul was stepping forward until her back was pressed against the wall. She stiffened at the dreamy stare in his eyes. He released her hands and stepped forward again. "Raoul…" His breath was skating against her cold skin, making her shiver as he stared down at her with that hazed look.

"I have often dreamed of you Christine," his voice had changed, almost becoming… raspy, "I dream that we are kids again, and that you are in my home… but this time my mother does not throw you out… you never leave my side. And we play and we grow older… and…" he didn't go on. He only looked up to her eyes, wide and the color of her dress. His hazel eyes sparkled down at her, catching the light of the lamp posts on the street.

"Raoul—

"_de Chagny!" _The hiss sliced the air like a knife.

She saw as if in slow motion Raoul's body flew away from her like if the ground itself had pushed him into the air. Then she saw Erik, standing there before her. His back to her and his eyes on the man that had been standing in his place, she heard Raoul yell as his body hit the cement and he scrambled to his feet.

Erik made to step forward but she leaped and latched onto his cloak.

"Erik! Please do not harm him!" She begged as he continued walking, pulling her with him. "Erik!" She yelled again, this time she latched onto his arm and got in front of him, placing her hands on his chest and pushing with as much strength as she could muster.

"You! You are her guardian!" Raoul yelled, coming to stand.

"Erik, _please_!" Christine's heart felt that it would pop within her. She gasped for air and shoved him back again. Erik's eyes were narrowed in Raoul's direction, he hardly seemed to notice her and with a flick of his arm she suddenly found herself in his grasp with his eyes burning down at her. She knew she was close to tears but reeled them in with as much strength as she could possibly muster.

"You _lied_ to me." He hissed down at her. His grip tightened as Raoul yelled for him to release her, "And then I see you with him! Did I raise you to be a common prostitute?" He sneered with a jerk of her body. She stiffened at the word.

"Release her this instant." Raoul stated firmly, coming in their direction. Christine struggle to turn away from Erik but managed slightly and looked to Raoul with a watery gaze, stilling him where he stood.

"Please go home Raoul, please!" She begged.

"Yes, save him Christine!" Erik jeered at her. "Save him from the vile beast that holds you!"

"Christine-

"I will be fine!" She cried, "Please!" She rasped out. He nodded quickly, noticing the desperation in her blue eyes and cast one look to the man who held her so tightly. He took in the mask, the dark cloak, the demonic eyes, and cursed sharply before casting a final look to Christine and jogging off as Erik pulled her towards the Opera House.

**…**

"Erik please-

He jerked her forward harshly to silence her. His grip was relentless; she swore that her circulation was being cut off from her fingers. She stumbled behind him when they reached the lair in silence. Only then did he release her to throw off his cloak. She stood quietly crying against the wall of the kitchen, covering her face and willing her tears to stop. But they would not; when she looked up she found Erik was glaring at her.

"I'm sorry," she croaked out, "I-

"Yet again Christine you have made me the fool!" She cringed away but he grabbed her yet again and pressed her to the wall with both his hands. "You and your little Raoul do most certainly enjoy angering me."

"I didn't ask him to meet me-

"How dare you lie to my face!" He hissed, grabbed her jaw carefully and burning her with the heat of his eyes, "You little _chit_!" She sobbed, "To think I trusted you, I have been a fool to trust you! I waited like a _fool_ for you to perform, and then I stood there like a _fool_ when I saw you prancing about the stage, and I waited _still_ like a _fool_ for you to open your mouth and sing, and then I foolishly let you escape the opera house! But no more! Erik will be your fool no more! I am sick of your little games!"

"That wasn't my intention." She cried up at him.

"Oh, it wasn't?" He softly spoke now, lowering his voice to a menacing whisper, "tell me then, my dear, what was your intention? To escape me forever, my horrid lifestyle does not suit you anymore?" His voice was getting louder, "have you grown bored of our music? Do you wish to wed and bed the vicomte-

"Stop it!-

"Does his face please you?" He continued, forcing her back against the wall yet again, "Does he make you tremble with desire? Look at how you blush! I bet you enjoyed his hands upon you, didn't you my little _chit_!"

She harshly shoved Erik away from her with more strength then she imagined she had in all her life, he stepped sharply back and stared at her. Silent, shocked, as if he had just been knocked from a drunken daze.

"How dare you! To speak to me that way!" He looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "You never trusted me!" She proclaimed angrily through her tears, hardly able to breathe anymore. "I did not tell you that I was canceled from performing because I knew what your reaction would be and I wished for one night alone to fend for myself, to prove to you that I am not so weak," her voice was so passionate it had changed to a strange tone he could not recognize, there was a certain strain that irked him and made him feel as though he were withering. She slapped her hand on her chest and jerked her hair from her face passionately, "I wanted you to see that I am not the child you believe me to be! I am an adult, Erik! Not an infant!" She strained for air, her lungs were making it difficult to breathe, "I-I would _never_ abandon you and you _still_ do not trust me."

"You lied to me." He reminded her angrily.

"I did no such thing." She wiped furiously at her face, "Did I ever tell you that I was going on the stage past the moment that I knew I wasn't? No. Tonight I went out to see _Nadir_, not Raoul or anyone else," she took one breath in, "I only want you to trust me with my own safety. But you will never let me have friends, or a life outside of yours. I am your most loyal prisoner. That most pathetic thing is," she sobbed, "that even as you yell at me, and call me a chit, and a common whore," he flinched, he should never have call her any of those things, although he wished to remind her that he had never called her a common whore, "I wish for nothing more other than your trust and adoration," she squeaked.

Christine's knees hit the ground suddenly and her hands slapped down against the cement. She was gasping for breath that didn't seem to fill her lungs. Her eyes were wide and watered and her breath labored. Erik fell forward and kneeled before her, taking her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "Relax for me, Christine-

"Get away from me." She rasped out, struggling to stand and not noticing how he stiffened when she shoved his hands away from her face. "I am _nothing_ to you; I have never been _anything_ but a tool for you to implement your control!" She came weakly to a stand and clutching the wall desperately for balance. All around her the lair seemed to tilt on its side and Erik was still kneeling on the ground, staring at his hands as if he were suddenly lost.

His eyes were tense and then he was suddenly on his feet as she slumped slightly to the side and started falling forward. Erik grabbed hold of her tightly, pulling her to him.

He instantly regretted it.

The feel of her made him claw his hands against her back, and her scent was never so close to him as now, he struggled to breathe normally, wanting only to soak up the smell of the fresh air in her wavy hair. He made no attempts to loosen his hold of her.

She didn't fight it, mainly because she couldn't find the will to. Weakly she laid her head against his shoulder, dragging in his scent, trying to breathe. _Oh Erik, how I adore you my Ange, my beautiful Ange, so beautiful…_

"_Christine_," his voice made her tremble some more as her tears wet his shirt, she could hear the rage plain though he had lowered his voice to her ear, "he _touched_ you." He said with a strained tone, as if it burned his throat just to say it, "you are not _his_ to touch!" He whispered adamantly, pressing her closer, "You have always been here with me, he is not worthy of you. He is a _fool_, a little fool who thinks he can rip you away from me, he has a pretty face and I must make sure that you will not fall for this… trickery. His mask. He has everything now wishes to rip you away. But what do I have? I have _nothing_ Christine, nothing except you and my music, and my music is nothing but sheets of paper without you. All I have is you." He clutched her desperately to his chest. Noticing how her breathing was still unnaturally labored. "Do you understand?"

When she did not answer him he pulled her away and held her face in his hands, she was not looking at him.

"Look at me," he ordered, she did not. "Christine," his tone was warning. He hated this, he loathed it and he wanted tonight to never have happened. Slowly her eyes made their way to him. They looked defeated and tired; he felt uncomfortable with their lack of passion and removed his hands from her face, "I only wish to protect you from him."

Christine stepped back and away from him, wiping her tears with embarrassment, "I do not need protection from _Raoul_, Erik, there are men more dangerous then he in this very opera house. When will you understand that?"

"He is no good. I do not wish you to be around him."

"I will do whatever I want." She stated firmly, glaring at him now. "Tomorrow I am going to have supper with him, whether you like it or not."

"Then you will not leave this lair come tomorrow." He retorted darkly.

"I would love to see you try to stop me."

He stepped forward now, towering over her smaller frame, her breathing quickened at his proximity, he saw her eyes beginning to water again and he reached up and willed his hand to stop trembling, he brushed the tear away, _her skin is so silky, _"is that a challenge Christine?"

When she did not respond he let out a cruel smirk and suddenly he had her by the legs.

"Erik! What are you doing?!" She shrieked madly as he had thrown her over his shoulder and was now strolling easily, she resisted the urge to kick, not wanting to harm him, but she fisted her hands and pounding weakly at his back.

Erik suddenly dropped her to her bed where her breath left her harshly.

She stared up at him as he stood at the foot of the bed with a strangely satisfied, pained and frustrated look on his face. "How dare you?!" She cried angrily for the millionth time, she was getting tired of this, and her voice was suffering from all her crying, Erik winced and as she tried to make her way forward and off the bed he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her back to the bed, smirking when her eyes widened with outrage. It was quite funny as she tried yet again to stand only to have him gently push her back to the bed.

"Stop that!"

"You will not be leaving this room." He said simply and strode for the door.

She leaped from the bed like a cat and reached for the door before he could shut it. "I am a grown woman!" She shrieked.

That was enough.

He swiveled and grabbed her by both her arms, pressing her against him angrily. She stilled under his gaze, shrinking and willing her heart to relax so that he might not see the panic on her face. Even in his anger Erik couldn't help but observe how beautiful she looked, so closely to him… he hated himself. But he hated Raoul de Chagny more.

"_You try my patience_." He sneered before jerkily releasing her. He stepped out of the room and slammed the door shut. She heard what sounded like locking, and then she fell to her knees. Exhausted.

_Where has my angel gone? _– she wondered for the first time that night.

* * *

**Wow, so that chapter was DIFFICULT to write. But I enjoyed it so much, it's going to make one of the following scenes even more difficult to write, but I'll figure something out haha.**

**SO, please tell me what you think, I was thinking to do the following chapter in Erik's point of view - of this one. But I guess that will depnd on how many of you are interested in that :) And the only way to know is to review!**

**Questions?: **

**1: Whose side are you on? Haha this ought to be interesting. **

**2: Do you think Christine was in the right to be so angry at Erik? Would you be if you were in her position? (DONT LIE haha you probably would be) **

**3: If you had to look at this from Erik's point of view do you think he has even a bit of validity in wanting Christine to stay away from Erik? **

**And a fun little ****_bonus_**** for you guys:**

**The next chapter I'll include a line from you: so here's what you have to do: Write to me the one thing that you really want to hear Christine say to Erik as IF you were Christine - but it has to fit in the context of what is going on, if it fits I will put it in there, and give you credit, it can be as long as you'd like but it has to basically be something that Christine should say to Erik, I will give you credit, but it has to fit in the chapter somehow.**

**No you don't get to know what will happen in the chapter, you jut have to make an educated guess of what the characters want to say to each other at this point in the story, or at least what Christine want's to say to Erik, or should say. It can be an apology, an angry rant, a strongly worded letter (haha) anything you wan't. I don't care. As long as it can fit. **

**So get to thinkin' if you want to participate in that tiny challenge. ****If nothing that is sent fits then it will not be included****, but I'm sure someone will come up with something :) **

**REVIEW PLEASE :) **


	16. Longing

**Chapter XVI**

He hadn't heard any sound from her throughout the night. He expected that she would bang on the door, scream at him to release her, he had in a strange way hoped for this. Then it would give him a reason to go into the room and look at her again, but she did nothing.

It scared him.

_Is it possible to break someone's spirit? For if I have then I am not just a despicable beast but the cruelest of them all. – _He though when he prepared her meal slowly. It took him all he had to not go into the bedroom in the night and plead for her forgiveness. The only thing that stopped him was recalling the way he had seen the insolent boy stepping forward towards her as if he meant to kiss her. And then the way she had simply stayed frozen in place, waiting for it.

Erik grabbed a tray and the bowl of soup; he approached her room quietly, hoping to hear even her breathing if possible. But when he stopped in front of the door he heard nothing. Quietly, firmly, he knocked on the wooden door, waiting impatiently for her to answer him. It made his chest tighten to think that she was upset with him, almost as much as it annoyed him. _She has no right to be angry with me. I saw how the boy advanced upon her, I saw the lust in his eyes, naively she dismisses it as nothing but a friendship… but I know better, I see her beauty as other men do for even this monster is built like a man, I understand their responses at her appearance as I have had them myself. _

"Christine," He knocked again, she once again did not reply. He sighed heavily and pulled out the key to the door and forced it into the lock.

Upon opening the door he was surprised to find her not at the bed but before her mirror. She didn't acknowledge him as he stood there, stunned at her splendor.

Christine wore a beautiful ivory colored gown. Her hair was swept into a bun at the crown of her head with a few stray locks sweeping past her face. The gown itself was modest, not extravagant, but it was how it fit her that made Erik stare awkwardly as she continued to fix her hair. He noticed that the dress, which he at first had never really observed, had small imprints of flowers running vertically from top to bottom. The dress itself pinched right below her bosom and then swept gracefully to the floor. She looked exquisite.

"Christine, I have brought you breakfast." He said after a few moments of staring at her. She did not acknowledge him and then grabbed a pair of earrings and resumed to put them on. He stared at her silently, waiting. _Is she ignoring me? _He started to wonder as he clutched the tray tighter. He couldn't bear it.

"Christine," he spoke tightly now and took short hesitant steps in her direction. Her eyes were completely focused on whatever it was that she was doing. He noticed that she had also put on a bit of perfume. He glared at her now, "where do you plan on going dressed like that?" Her eyes roamed the dresser as if he hadn't spoken at all.

That when he noticed her hand. A strange sense of looming horror clouded his thoughts as he observed her fingers. _Where is her ring? "_Christine_," _he noticed her shiver and slowly she raised her eyes up to his in the mirror, they looked tired, and the blue depths seemed to be sharper by the pinkness that surrounded them. She had clearly not gotten any sleep, "where is your ring?"

She didn't say anything and simply stared at him as if he hadn't spoken. A flame burst in his ribs at the sight.

Marching forward he set the tray down a little too harshly, causing the soup to spill slightly. Christine jumped up and away from him as he opened one of the jewelry boxes on her dresser. He slammed necklaces and other rings down, furiously searching with his amber eyes until he came to the black opal with the gold band. Turning around he reached for her, ignoring as she tried to tug her hand away silently. Easily he forced the ring upon her hand, dousing the fire that had been at his chest.

"You are going nowhere," he said solemnly as the embers died down in his chest, but the fire still crackled in his eyes, daring her to test him, "do not cry." He said in a strangely tight voice when he noticed her lips tremble, "Christine you are never to remove that ring. I cannot bear the sight of it."

She nodded at him quietly. When she stepped around him he noticed that she still was not acknowledging the bowl of soup, instead she had gone back to fixing her hair. "I am not hungry," she stated firmly, reading his eyes easily and then sighing, she was content with the way she looked.

"How can you not be hungry when you have not eaten for so many hours?"

"By not being hungry." She stated, "I will be eating later with Raoul, I will be back-

"Did you hear _nothing_ I said to you yesterday?" Erik asked her sharply, she whirled around in a flurry of rage suddenly.

"Did you hear nothing _I_ said to you?" She hissed at him angrily, "I am not your prisoner. My tears have been plenty because of you monsieur-

"_Monsieur_?-

"And I do not intend on being treated like the child I was yesterday. Now if you would please remove yourself from my room-

"No I will not remove myself from your room." He said, stepping forward until once again he was towering over her petite frame, but now she did not shrink away. He defiant eyes burned right through him.

"Will you lock me in here like a bird in a cage again Erik? Are those your intentions?"

"You are testing my very thin patience," he warned her, pointing his finger down as he steadily took a few steps away from her. He did not want to grab her again, but the way she shook with rage in front of him made him want to snatch her by the wrists and shake her until she was docile, "I grow weary of your immature little games."

"_Little games_?" Christine choked out, she could feel the energy of rage building up again, she took a deep breath to calm herself, she must not act like the child he thought her to be, "I am a grown woman. I am not playing games with you Erik. I am simply trying to have a life."

"_Music_ is your life, do you not understand?" he answered.

"You are _not_ my father."

The words escaped him before he could stop them. Even as they escaped he felt that vague sense of dread, and when they had exploded out into the air he watched her body seize up. "Of course I'm not your father, he's dead!" Even his own heart stopped when he watched her reaction. It was simply a small widening of her eyes, and then a clenching of her hands. His throat felt dry, "Christine-

"Leave." She said stiffly and turned to the mirror. Her body was tense and her steps forced and jerky. Silently Erik left the room.

**…**

The rest of the day Christine sat before her mirror, simply staring at nothing and fixing her hair and then her dress, then her jewelry and everything else. Erik's words were a reminder of one simple fact; she had no one but Erik and possibly Nadir. She was certain that Nadir would take her in if anything happened but still he would feel forced to contact Erik. It was like an unspoken deal between the two of them. Everything came back to Erik. _But do I mind this? Certainly I love Erik… he has been a tutor and a guardian… but he is so overwhelming sometimes._

Quietly Christine approached her door, she was certain Erik would make an attempt at an apology. She would accept, she did not like fighting with him, and in truth it was too late to go out and pretend to have intentions to have supper with Raoul. This was simply one argument that she would be forced to move on from.

When she exited her bedroom and made her way to the kitchen she heard the door of Erik's room clicking. She paid it no mind and resumed to make herself something to eat, her hair continued to get in her face and she fastidiously pushed it back. She had spent all day getting ready for something that never happened, and now her hair would not stop mocking her about it.

She heard his footsteps soundly approaching her; she knew he was stepping louder than he really needed to, probably as a warning to her. When the footsteps stopped behind her she quietly turned.

Erik stood there, he appeared a bit sheepish and tense, his jaw was locked hard and his eyes fierce as they drank her in. "I must apologize," he said almost forcefully, "for my behavior earlier. Forgive me, I never meant to be so cruel." She opened her mouth but stopped when he silently held up a hand, "I beg you to listen to me, to my reasons for not wanting you in the company of Raoul."

She sighed heavily and nodded, folding her arms and staring at him coolly.

He stepped forward quietly and hesitantly, trembling, took her hands in his own, instantly she sighed, _how can I ever remain angry with him when he fills me with peace? _"Raoul de Chagny's family is one of wealth and propriety. They do not understand the things you've been through, and they mock those they feel to be below them. Their son, Raoul de Chagny, is a stranger in their midst." He caught Christine's confused gaze, "he is not like them, he does not care for propriety or money as evidenced by his infatuation with you," she sighed calmly when Erik stroked her knuckles, "but Christine that does not mean that he is not… a man. With needs, and urges, and desires." His eyes turned up to her, she stared with confusion.

"Erik what do you mean?"

"Christine…" her name escaped him almost in a pained manner, "he is in love with you." She shook her head, denying it stubbornly, "Yes, Christine, he is."

"B-but Raoul is to be married to Carlotta-

"Do you think marriage can hold back passion?" Erik's eyes burned at her and she shuddered under his suddenly overwhelming stare, "Nothing can hold back a man's passion Christine."

"But," she blushed, "how do you know he has never said anything-

"Your innocence is admirable," the masked man stated with a small step towards her and touched her face, Christine smiled up at him. He shivered when she did that, _so beautiful, so beautiful, so beautiful, _"I know. Just trust me, I know. A man who is infatuated will go to incredible lengths for the woman he is in love with, and he has dared to do this on one too many occasions. He knows nothing about you but he believes he knows enough."

Her eyes began to water then. She believed him. Things made sense when he explained it to her so simply, when he hadn't angered her in the first place. She had witnessed it, Raoul had called her his love, and at first she thought it to be a simple term of affection but… Erik was right, like always. "I'm so sorry for my behavior, _Ange_." Her expression made him quiver, "I never saw it that way, and I never understood what you had been trying to tell me, you never explained…" she stressed up at him, "I-

"Hush now," he murmured gently and stroked away a stray tear, her skin set him on fire, his touch made her quake, "I will never allow him to harm you Christine, even in your naivety you must trust my judgment. You're all I have and I will protect you from whatever tries to harm you."

Christine frowned through her tears, her pained expression made his throat tighten uncomfortably. "You say I'm all you have? But I offer you everything and you won't take it. You won't take it! Because you don't trust me. And I'm trying...I'm trying so hard. Why do you hide from me?"

Silence reigned for a moment as he stared down at her trembling frame. He swallowed the tension at his throat and removed his hands from her face, withdrawing once again but this time it was Christine who caught him around the wrist and tugged him to her. He glared down at her.

"Why?" She said softer, noticing how his gaze had hardened along with his mouth. "Have I done something to make you think that I would harm you Erik?"

He ceased her by the wrist suddenly and pressed her flush up against him, she gasped at the proximity as his face came too closely to her own. _My God… his eyes are so beautiful!_

"You have all the power to destroy me, do you not understand that?" His voice was low again, she shivered under his gaze, she could feel his hard chest against her breast and she was suddenly very aware of the way her chest rose and felt against his and how powerful legs pressed against the material of her dress and her own legs. They resembled ballroom dancers, she reflected_, with me on the balls of my feet and Erik with an arm around my frame. _

"I would never hurt you." She croaked gently. His hold on her wrist lessened, she gently let her hand float to his shoulder.

**…**

_Fool, I am a fool. She is too close; her warmth is too close… _

Erik bit back a grunt at the stiffening sensation against his thigh. _I am pathetic, I cannot even hold her without this happening to me._

She was going to question what that was if he kept her pressed against him. But he couldn't release her, even as she stared up at him with what he imagined was apprehension.

"Erik, please remove the mask." Her voice was so quiet he could hardly hear it, and his own breathing was becoming ragged, too_ close, this was not appropriate._ "Please…" her curiosity was making him harden. Her fingers were crawling up his neck, their heat made him tense all over. His veins were heating up inside of his scarred body and he realized finally how much he wished to kiss her.

_No, no, _no_! _

Abruptly Erik captured her hand and pulled it down to her side. Christine's expression was one of confusion and then defeat. "Not tonight." He said with finality. His voice sounded empty and cold even to his own ears. And his lips had gone dry. He stepped back away from her, needing to gain distance, and then he strode from the room quickly, fleeing her before he did something to her mouth that he would regret.

When he reached his room he locked the door firmly, he hated himself. He absolutely hated himself for what he was about to do. With anguish he let his hands travel to the front of his pants where he was throbbing. His hands were timid on himself, he knew what to do. He had done this before. But never with the thought of Christine. Even as he freed himself with ragged breaths he struggled to keep her body out of his mind, and when he fisted his hands at the base of his stiffening erection he gave up.

_I'm so sorry Christine; _he apologized as he shut his eyes and leaned against the doorway.

Timidly he imagined her pressed against him the way she was earlier, her breasts firmly crushed to him. He imagined that she wanted him, that her nipples would stiffen at his direction and that she would moan when he swept his thumbs against them and palmed them greedily. He imagined her pressing her lower body to him urgently, pleading with him to give himself to her because _she_ _wanted_ him. His breath became ragged as he stroked faster with a more tenacious grip.

"Oh Christine…" he whimpered as the image of her began to become more wanton. He imagined that she would press her lips to his neck as he played the piano, Christine would slide her hand down the front of his chest until she reached the top of his pants. He groaned at the vivid image of her kissing his masked cheek and then timidly reaching into his pants.

"Damn," he groaned harshly as his body seized and the most amazing thing he would ever be able to have overwhelmed him. His knees buckled and he clutched the wall and himself as his body expelled the fluid of his ministrations. It was the closest he would ever get to Christine, so he allowed himself to relish in the fading mental image of her lovingly kissing his neck as he finished off with a low moan.

He wallowed in his misery only after the high had died down.

* * *

**Aw? Ew? Poor Erik? Poor Christine?**

**That's up to you to decide. But anyway, a huge thank you to ****GhibliGirl91 who was the one who submitted the line: "You say I'm all you have? But I offer you everything and you won't take it. You won't take it! Because you don't trust me. And I'm trying...I'm trying so hard."**

**:) I thought it fit well, and the other lines were SOO good but I figured that since I have a habit of having something major happen at chapters that are multiples of 5 (10...15...20) I need to let things die down as I finally figured out how I want chapter 20 to play out, I think you all know what I'm talking about - Erik's unmasking! :) I know exactly how it needs to happen now and so I needed a line like that one and someone sent it to YAY!**

**THANK YOU GHIBLIGIRL91!**

**Review? :) **

**What did you think, was I not vulgar enough in that final scene? I know that some people had the word cock in there but... I thought to save it for a rainy day, hahaha!**

**So tell me what you think? :)**


	17. Save me from Solitude

**Chapter XVII**

"Nadir," Erik glared at the man before him with impatience. Nadir Khan had been sitting here for the past two hours with a glint in his eye, as if he knew something was happening but was only waiting for Erik to say it, "what is the true reason for why you have come here, aside from simply being a nuisance."

Nadir sipped his tea quietly for a few seconds and then drew it from his lips and set it on the table. He knew how much Erik hated beating around the bush; it's what made this all the more fun. The masked man looked on edge, more than usual, and while Nadir would usually think that it had something to do with drugs, he knew this was not the case. Erik had stayed away from drugs for years now, so the only reason for this edginess was Christine, as always. "I have come to inquire about Christine, no doubt you found her in the company of Raoul de Chagny."

"Yes, I did."

"Mhm, and what did you do?" Nadir asked with a curious gaze.

"I commanded her to stay away from that filthy boy. He was trying to kiss her when I came upon them. He did not get the chance but I saw his intention." Erik's amber eyes narrowed, Nadir resisted a laugh.

"Surely you realize that Christine," he noticed Erik wince as the sound of Carlotta's voice drifted down into the lair from above, they were rehearsing for the show that night, no doubt Erik wished it were Christine's singing, "is a grown woman."

"I really do wish Christine, you, and Raoul de Chagny would stop uttering those words." He muttered and crossed his legs sharply, glaring at Nadir from where he sat. "I know that she is a grown woman, but she is still Christine. She does not know what she does-

"That is _your_ fault. And it is not that she doesn't know what she does Erik, it is simply that she does not know the intentions of others because she has grown up simply trusting you and being sheltered by you. She knows nothing except you and me and perhaps the Giry girl."

"It does not matter anymore. She has agreed to stay away from that boy." Erik said quickly, almost dismissively, "Christine has agreed with my conclusions and see's my points now. That is all that matters."

Nadir nodded, "that is probably for the best. I do not think that the boy has malicious intentions, but I still do not find myself comfortable with the prospects of him around her. If you say he was going to try to kiss her who knows how far that might have gotten. How improper, a man to be married!"

"His very existence is improper." Erik muttered, taking the tea cup to his lips and drinking carefully.

Nadir couldn't hold it back anymore. The curiosity was eating away at his organs, "Erik, I want you to answer my question truthfully. And do not come charging at me like a demon, simply answer me." Erik stared at Nadir with a leery glance.

"I promise you nothing."

"Do you find yourself attracted to Christine?" He ignored the way Erik's eyes bulged, "Surely you must. I see the way you two flit around each other, the protectiveness of the both of you towards one another. It is completely plausible that-

"Nadir, stop talking." The masked man muttered angrily, "if another word escapes you then I will choke the life from your body."

"You have not denied my suspicions." Nadir continued, testing the man's patience haughtily, "she loves you, surely you must see that."

"She loves me as a friend Nadir. Calm whatever fantasies you have conjured-

"Do you enjoy living under a veil?" Nadir asked, suddenly annoyed. "Perhaps you are right and she does not love you as a man loves a woman but you most certainly love her that way. Or do you suppose it normal that a guardian should wish to keep all males that are eligible for marriage away from the one he looks after? It is called jealousy, and no one wears it as plainly as you do. You should be happy that she has males chasing after her, it means that she will bear children and be happy in the arms of another man. But you shun the idea-

"Nadir Khan, I will give you three seconds to close your reprehensible mouth."

"Or?" Nadir challenged with a sly grin.

"Do you really wish to find out?"

**…**

"His lips tasted like cherries, and his hands were sliding up my dress, I had to stop him, obviously, but my God I did not want to."

Christine had been listening to Meg confess about how she had kissed a boy she had met only three months ago last night. Meg seemed enticed in the memory even as she retold it to Christine. Christine found herself also enthralled by the vivid recollection; she couldn't help but wonder what a kiss would feel like.

"He was absolutely stunning Christine. I have kissed others before, but he was an experience to truly remember." Meg's blue eyes glittered wildly and she giggled then at Christine's blush, "Do I seem wanton?"

"No, no," Christine smiled gently, "simply in love."

"He is wonderful." Meg said distantly as they continued to tie their ballet shoes for the performance, it was only an hour away. They had endured Carlotta's voice and Christine was certain that she would get a headache from having to hear it again. "Have you ever kissed anyone Christine?" Meg asked her gently.

Christine shook her head with a blush, "no I have not. I… I have never had the opportunity."

"You must try it." Meg grinned devilishly, "It set your body on fire."

Christine made no comment. The most 'on fire' she had ever been was when she had thought of Erik at night. She would have this strange warmth at her stomach and it would feel as if she had pressure building at her most private areas, she hated to think that that was what Meg might have been referring to. Erik would never see her in that light, it seemed Erik saw no woman in that light at all!

When the hour of the performance came Christine lingered backstage, waiting for her cue to approach the stage. She wouldn't be on for another ten minutes or so, so she walked around aimlessly.

Kissing Erik… what would that be like? Certainly it would be difficult as he wore the damnable mask all the time. But she couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence when she thought about what his reaction would be. She was almost certain he would give in to it. He has seemingly no patience for being touch, but kissing was supposed to be pleasurable, so – she could only imagine – he would enjoy it more thoroughly than most people.

Christine has gone back to approaching the stage when she felt an arm wrap around her waist, too tightly, and pulled her into a dark room. It shocked her at first, shocked her so much that she had no voice, but then she started to struggle and shout. The arm wrapped around her tightened and another hand clamped down on her face, shutting her up effectively.

_My God, I am going to die! _She was certain it was Buquet. The scent was too overwhelmingly horrible.

"Shut up, lil' Christine," he rasped at her indecently. She gasped when she felt him slam her to a wooden wall. Her grunt followed. "I see the way you walk around, searchin' for ol' Buquet…" his voice was at her ear. Christine's temper flared up and she attacked his chest uselessly, her little fists did nothing to him at all. "A fights what ye' want, huh?"

She felt one of his hands grab her around the wrists and then he grabbed her around the neck, Squeezing tightly, "please!" she gasped for air and gagged as his hold tightened. _Erik, where is Erik_! _I cannot die this way! _She cried out mentally as she struggled in the dark.

"Tell me, have ye' ever had a cock between ye' legs?"

She gasped with shock and felt stars dancing in her vision. Christine pulled her leg upwards, hitting him right between the legs.

He released her very suddenly and she crumpled to the ground before him weakly and searching in the darkness for light. She heard his pained moans and then caught sight of the light streaming under the doorway. She stumbled towards it and heard his horrible laugh as she stumbled out of the closet. Tears stung at her vision as she ran towards the stage, knowing it was time and joined the group of dancers by the stage.

No one noticed her as she tried to get air back into her lungs, or as she wiped at her tears uselessly and then stumbled with them to the stage and performed her dance perfectly, even though she could hardly see through her tears. She hoped no one in the crowd could see them, she was certain that they couldn't.

Carlotta shrieked her way through the song and Christine grinned brightly at the crowd and bowed with the ballerina's with a dazzling smile. She watched Carlotta get a standing ovation and almost rolled her eyes, but clapped with a smile as she knew she was supposed to.

When she went backstage Christine caught no sight of Buquet anywhere. She headed towards the dressing room quietly, listening to see if Carlotta was in there. When she heard nothing she stepped into the room and sat, waiting for Erik and trying to control her breathing both from the dance and from the ever present memory of Buquet.

_How dare he? I must speak to the managers about him… How is it possible that I cannot work without being harassed? Surely I am not the only one he has tried this with… yes, yes that is what I will do. I will speak to the managers. I cannot tell Erik, Erik will kill him, and as much as I despise Joseph Buquet I cannot taint Erik's hands with my problems._

_Have ya' ever had a cock between ye' legs? _Buquet had growled at her, she didn't know what to make of the words. She had never heard _that_ term before in her life but she could guess what he meant, she wasn't stupid.

The mirror started to slide open. The familiar broad shouldered figure stepped forward from behind the mirror with an outstretched hand; she smiled as relief enveloped her wholeheartedly. _Oh, Erik…_

"Did you enjoy the performance?" She asked softly.

"I did," he said gently as she placed her hand in his. She tugged the scarf at her throat slightly as he closed the mirror behind her and led her through the dark tunnels. She noticed that his hands were unusually tight around hers. She did not mind, she just smiled cheekily and tried to forget the events from earlier.

When they reached the lair Erik led her to the piano instantly.

"Nadir was here today," he informed her gently as he took a seat and motioned for her to stand beside him.

"That's wonderful, did you two have a nice conversation?"

"Yes, he… enlightened me for once." He stated cryptically. Christine raised a brow but knew she would get no answers if she questioned him.

"What song?" She asked as he looked through his papers quickly.

"Tonight I want you to perform a new piece, I wrote a new Opera, and it's titled Don Juan Triumphant."

She raised a brow as he passed her the paper, she noticed first how messy his handwriting was, she could hardly tell what it was that some of the notes were but she did her best to figure them out as she ran her eyes along the score. Then she looked at the lyrics, he watched her expression uncomfortably. "What is this piece titled?"

"Point of No Return." He said curtly and turned from her face to the keys before him. He had caught the flushing of coloring from her cheeks as she ran her eyes over it. Had he stepped over some sort of boundary? Would she hate him or think him disgusting? "Is it displeasing to you?"

"It is... beautiful Erik, but I do not know if I can sing this. This role calls for… something that I know I lack-

"You are a performer Christine; you must simply learn to pretend to have those abilities." He huffed at her impatiently, grabbing the sheet out of her hands. "Now we must prepare your voice, do your scales."

Christine dove into them easily, her voice soared high above them, and she followed his hands on the piano keys easily and then winced as some notes caused her discomfort. He watched her with a scrutinized gaze and then stopped her, "your voice is off tonight. Is something troubling you?" He seemed annoyed.

"It's nothing." she wanted to tell Erik, but she knew his anger was not going to help anything. So she said nothing. She cleared her throat gently and finished the scales perfectly. "Do you wish me to learn the song first before we practice it?"

"No, I will show you the rhythm and you will sing along."

He gently began to play a silky sounding melody. It captivated her almost instantly in both its tempo, and its dark overtone. It seemed as though the song itself was struggling to break through something in slow motion, but then there was this darkness to it that kept her grounded there hoping that it never broke free. It was so… sensual.

"You have come here…" she sang quietly and shyly. Erik shook his head at her and stopped her.

"That's not your part. This is your part," he pointed to her the part where the female should start singing.

"Oh, I see. Alright." She began again and he followed along on the piano, "You have brought me-

"No, no, _no_!" He slammed his fist down on the keys, glaring at her angrily, "I want to hear you sing girl! From here!" He pointed to her diaphragm, "The role calls for appeal and confidence, you will not be performing this with that meek voice! Now sing!"

She nodded sharply and waited for him to start; when he did she tried her hardest to sing louder, "You have brought me, to that moment when words run dry, to-

"My God Christine, are you hearing yourself?" He growled at her.

Her eyes narrowed, "I don't know what you want."

"You are supposed to seduce the crowd, Christine. Not make them wonder if you've ever done this before in your life." She winced at his tone.

"Then sing it to me as you would have it sung!" She exclaimed with frustration.

"Certainly." He began the song again.

She waited impatiently for him to start singing, expecting nothing short of the usual perfection, but there was something different about his voice when he opened his mouth this time… his voice was deeper, lower…

"You have come here… in pursuit of your deepest urge." She stiffened when he rolled the R, it made her tingle all over… my God she would not be able to have that effect on an entire crowd, slowly he turned his head around to her, his eyes smoldering into her soul, "in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent…" his eyes skated over her, "_silent_…"

_His voice… it's so beautiful._

"I have brought you that our passions may fuse and merge. In your mind you've already _succumbed_ to me - dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me. Now you are here with me, no second thoughts. You've decided… _Decided_…" He paused and then locked his eyes on her own, his eyes were burning again. She felt as though he could see right through her, "Past…the point of no return. No backward glances, our games of make-believe are at an end." His voice rose as did the hairs on her neck, her breathing had become shallow, "Past all thought of 'if' or 'when'. No use resisting, _abandon_ thought and let the dream desc_end_!"

"Oh, okay." She stuttered out unsurely with trembling hands, missing the smirk Erik cast her way. "I think I got it." She _had_ to get it; because if he sang that way to her again she was certain to crumple to the ground, her knees felt like jelly. All of her joints did, and she shifted uncomfortably as she waited for him to start playing her cue.

He noticed the way her fingers trembled and for a moment he was confused, _could it be that Christine has fallen for my lyrics… no, certainly not. How could she be so easily seduced by such a monster? _But he noticed the way she trembled, the way her breathing had become shorter and the way her blue eyes darted around the paper, the slight shine of her forehead…

"You have brought me… to that moment when words run dry. To that moment when speech disappears into silence… _silence_.." Her innocent eyes narrowed at him. He resisted a shiver. "I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I've already imagined…" she stopped singing and he continued playing, looking at her with annoyance. "I… I can't sing that-

"Christine," he said stiffly, "you are a performer, and according to you a 'grown woman'. Now stop being so immature and sing the song."

She nodded gently and continued, "In my mind I've already imagined… our bodies entwining-

"Stop. Stop, _stop_!" He stood harshly from the bench and marched over behind her, she stiffened when he grabbed the paper and slammed it on the top of the piano harshly, "Must I also teach you how to _act_?" He hissed in her ear.

"I just... I've never seen a score like this!… I am not wanton-

"You don't have to be." He informed her shortly, "may I show you something?"

"Yes Erik, your instruction rather then your snarky comments would be more helpful right now."

His eyes narrowed at her, she missed it as her back was against his chest, "and your very bad attitude is not helpful right now either," suddenly his hands were at her shoulders, and skating down her soft arms. He felt her shiver against his body, "past the point of no return… no backward glances… our games of make believe are at an end," he purred gently into her ear, gently nudging her head to the side for more access to the side of her neck with his face. She felt her legs buckle, "past the thought of 'if' or 'when'… no use resisting! Abandon thought and let the dream desc_end." _She gasped when he caught her around the waist and pressed her flush up against his body, "What raging fire shall flood the soul," he growled into her ear, his lips brushing against her earlobe forcing a harsh breath from her parted lips, "what rich desire unlocks its door. What sweet seduction lies bef_ooor_e, _us_…" the last word escaped him in a hiss. His hands traveled down to her hips. Her breathing came raggedly, and suddenly there was a strange warm and strangely pleasantly tight feeling between her thighs. She bit her lip to resist a whimper. "Past the point of no return, the final threshold – what warm unspoken secrets will we learn?" His operatic voice filled her spirit and for a moment she sagged, only his arms kept her steady, his fingers clamped down on her hips, "Beyond the point of no… re…turn." His breath skated lightly on her neck, raising bumps as it went.

Suddenly he pulled away and she stood there trembling as he made his way to the piano again and sat with a frustrated huff, glaring at her.

"Now … sing." He commanded. His stare was glazed it seemed.

Nodding Christine gathered up her courage and tried to put herself in the mindset of a performer. But it was so difficult with the memory of what has just transpired… he wanted her to behave that way? Or at least the female equivalent of what he did… she had no idea of what to do!

"You have brought me, to that moment when words run dry…" She unsurely stepped forward in his direction and leaned towards the piano, tossing her hair away from her neck and exposing her collarbone. She noticed Erik's eyes twitch. "To that moment when speech disappears into silence…" she took another step forward, unsure, "silence…"

He nodded, bidding her to continue.

"I have come here! Hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I've already imagined-" she clasped her hands together, awkwardly, glancing at the paper for the lyrics "our bodies entwining…" she choked out with a blush, "defenseless and silent. Now I am here with you." Her breathing was coming short and hoarse, "no second thoughts… I've decided…" She blushed again, avoiding his eyes, "decided..." She finished that verse and stared at his hands on the piano, anywhere but his face.

"That was not good." He stated firmly, ignoring her defeated expression. "We'll practice this more later. I most certainly cannot teach you how to be a seductress." She nodded shortly and escaped to her room, embarrassed.

**…**

The next day was her day off from the usual performances. She stayed with Erik as he taught her the lyrics to the song. The entire time she remembered the way he had sang in her ear and the power of his voice as he did so. She was certain that she would never have that effect on on another human being – never mind an entire crowd of people.

He taught her the song and how it was that she was to sing it.

"Hold that note out," he told her when she'd reach a certain word, "breathe deeply," he instructed her, "annunciate!" He'd exclaim when she'd let the words out in a rush.

Finally when he felt they had practiced enough she was given leave to escape to her room for the night. She collapsed on her bed with a short breath and a sigh. Christine was going to go to hell, or at least she was certain of it.

She had never wanted a man. Mostly because she did not know what that really was, but she had certainly learned yesterday. She wanted to feel what Erik's hands were like on her body again. She felt awful, almost to the point where she wanted to seek out Raoul and allow him the right to kiss her so that Erik might leave her thoughts.

But no, she did not want Raoul, she wanted Erik. With or without his mask she did not care ubt she wanted a small piece of him.

She even prayed for these feelings to go away: _My God, please release me from these emotions. I find that I cannot think of anything but him… I find that my body is aflame when I think of just his eyes on me. I should not be thinking this way and I know it, it is wrong to feel this way about an angel. But what am I to do when everything that I think of turns to thoughts of Erik. Must I leave him to stop thinking of him this way? _

_Is it wrong at all? _

The thoughts didn't stop, that night Christine dreamed of Erik.

In her minds eye she dreamed of Erik pushing her against a wall, his hands skating down her sides and his lips on her skin like liquid fire. She imagined his hands coming up to her hips and pinning them against the wall and lingering there as she fought for air. She imagined his mask pressed against her cheek as he sang the words of his song to her gently.

"Do you enjoy this Christine?" He asked her in her dream as she fought for air, she'd answer yes, that she did enjoy it… "Have you ever had a man between your legs?"

It was then that she pulled back and saw Buquet's face and his dark eyes looking down at her. She screamed and woke from her dream with a horrid gasp.

_What is wrong with me? Why do I dream such things about Erik… he would never wish to touch me anyway. He thinks me a child, not a woman… But my God, I cannot deny it anymore. I cannot deny that I want him. Being in his presence makes me fill with happiness, and his hands did things to my body that were simple, chaste, but set me aflame… I want him. I need him. _

She groaned unhappily and tried to ignore the heat on her neck as she through about the way he made her feel.

_Do I confess such a thing to him? I must, surely I must… he has always told me to be honest with him. Why should I be ashamed of wanting him… of loving him the way I do. My God! I love him, don't I? _She felt a horrid pressure on her chest and she sat up in the dark, clutching at the place above her heart, _What am I saying? Erik… Erik does not love me. What do I love about him anyway! Surely one must know what it is that they love _about_ someone before they can simply presume that what they feel is love. No, no this is not love. This must be something else, something else just as powerful. _

She bit her lip horribly hard; _I want to feel his hands on me again… God have mercy on my sinful soul. _She silently begged as she stood from her bed and made her way towards the door.

**…**

He could hear her footsteps approaching before she was even in the hallway to his bedroom. At first he thought that she was going to the kitchen, but then the footsteps started to get a bit closer. He sighed and reached for his mask, placing it on his face carefully and then walking to the door as her footsteps drew nearer.

When he pulled open the door her hand was raised to knock. She stared at him with surprise, looking as beautiful as ever, and as confused as he was.

"What is it Christine?" He asked her quietly. Her hair was a wild mess, and her blue eyes looked sore. "Can you not sleep?"

"No," she replied softly, she stepped forward and he stiffened. "Can I stay here with you tonight?" Her eye roamed up to his stoic stare.

"Come in." He stated simply, almost annoyed and shut the door as she timidly stepped into the darkness.

He knew she was blind here, but he preferred it that way. Taking her hand in his he tugged her towards the bed, when she found it she crawled in quickly and got under the covers, he did not join her. Instead he sat on his chair and watched her with a curious gaze. "What has spurned this?"

She bit her lip, "I cannot sleep."

"Why not?" In the dark her wide blue eyes roamed to the place where his voice was.

"I dreamed bad things. Things I should not be dreaming…" she blushed slightly, "I also dreamed of Buquet."

Now Erik stiffened, "why were you dreaming of that mongrel?"

"He… he caught me by the waist today… backstage.. Oh Erik please do not be angry." She pleaded when she heard him stand sharply. "Erik please!-

"Did you ever plan on telling me?" His voice had lost all softness and she sat up sharply, searching for him in the dark. "Did you only tell me because you had a bad dream and needed to get it off your chest or was there ever a day when you planned to tell me! Answer me!"

"Ange please, come to me…" she said gently, outstretching her hands to the front of the bed where she believed he now stood, watching her, or glaring at her. Her heart felt as though it might burst from her chest and break her ribcage in the attempt, "Ange…"

She felt the bed dip and she waited patiently for him to approach her. She felt him settle on her left, she knew he was kneeling beside her, her breath came out quicker at his approach. "Christine did he harm you?" His voice had not lost its roughness, "you must tell me. How _dare_ he touch you? That beast will pay-

"No, Erik, I took care of him. You must not harm him. Promise me."

She heard nothing.

"Erik-

"I want to harm him. How can you ask me to not-

"I will never forgive you." She said in a strangely serious voice, "I will not have blood on your hands when I have handled the situation." She gently murmured, reaching to him and touching his hard shoulder. He stiffened at the contact. She waited a long moment before she spoke again, "is this alright?"

Erik swallowed stiffly, "it is alright." _It is more than alright Christine.. my God your hands feel like heaven.._

"Erik…" she summoned courage and moved closer to him, her hands now on both his shoulders. She shivered as she shuffled closer to him until she believed herself to be eye level with his own amber gaze, "He will never touch me again…"

"What did you do?" He asked tensely, her hands were making it hard for him to concentrate on being angry.

"I hit him between the legs." She muttered shyly, he resisted a grin.

"That will incapacitate him for a good while."

"Yes…" she said in a soft hiss, he watched her in the dark carefully, noticing how she was still drawing nearer to him. "Erik… these dreams…" her voice became low again, husky, "I cannot lie to myself. You have always taught me to be honest… I must be honest with you."

"Yes Christine, you must always be honest with me." He clasped his hands against each of his thighs to keep from touching her as she touched him.

"Erik, I am a grown woman, you see? And I am fighting with things that I have never felt before…" She paused, her eyes wide and innocent, "so you must forgive me for what I am going to do right now. You must not be angry with me. Promise you will not hate me?"

"Christine, why ever would I hate you? I could never hate you," he promised her gently, hoping she heard the promise in his voice. He was a fool, he should have seen it coming, he should have seen the purpose in her gaze.

Christine's arms suddenly wound around his neck, causing a full on paralysis of any control of his arms that he might have had, and then her eyes fluttered closed as her face approached his. For a moment there was only confusion as he watched her draw nearer to him. And then he saw the intention in her.

Grabbing her wrists from around his neck he pinned them to her sides awfully hard.

"What are you doing?" He rasped at her as she stared up into the darkness with her big eyes. "What has gotten into you!"

She trembled in his grasp. Her eyes confused, "I was… I.. I wanted-

"Do you know what that does to me?" He rasped out, fighting the urge to pull her to him. "You should not do things like that!"

"But.. I thought that-

"You thought wrong. You should not touch me that way Christine." He saw the hurt in her eyes as he rejected her.

"But you did not stop me at first, you did not protest-

"I am but a man," he croaked out, "even if I want it, it is _wrong_." He wanted to weep suddenly. _It is always wrong for your poor Erik Christine. I must never have what I want, even if the other wants it, for I am a demon. A sick perversion of nature. The snake does not mate with the bird… oh Christine. I must never know the happiness of lying in your arms for I will know it meant the corruption of your innocent being_. "You are an angel and I-

"You are _my_ ange… why is this wrong!" She sounded angry and made an attempt to move away from him but he found himself unwilling to release her, "Why is this wrong! I was supposed to be honest with you! That was what you told me!" Her breathing slowed and he was afraid that she would cry suddenly, "do you hate me now Erik?"

He shook his head quietly in the dark, but remembering that she couldn't see he spoke up, "No, I do not hate you Christine."

"Then why do you reject me so cruelly… am I not pleasing to you? Am I wrong to think-

"Do not ever say that," he hushed her snappily, "you are a beautiful woman… yes a _woman_. And I am a man Christine, a horrible man." He had slept with prostitutes before under the veil of darkness, but Christine was different, she was not a whore… she was pure, and it made her so much more enticing. It made him want to take her right here and claim her as his. "You do not understand." He moaned weakly and pulled away from her finally. His eyes burned and his loins felt hotter than the rest of him. "You will never understand what you do to a man as weak as myself." _It has taken all my strength to pull away from you… do not tempt me!_

"Erik, I wanted to kiss you tonight. I wanted to feel your hands on _me –_

_"Christine-_

"You awoke this when you sang to me Erik, you caused this. I have dealt with this tension for months now! Never knowing how to satisfy it!" Her voice was becoming increasingly more desperate and he wished to calm her, but touching her would make him go mad, "Why do you reject what we both want! I do not care for propriety there is nothing wrong with this! I _burn_ because of you." Her breathing became ragged and she threw herself backwards so that she lay on the bed, her hands grabbed at her night gown and he stood from the mattress to walk to the other side of the room, suddenly feeling afraid of her. "I cannot deal with this anymore. I know what it is now; you shall not deny me of it!"

"What are you saying Christine?" His voice sounded far away, as if he were not speaking and it was coming from across the room. He stalked over to her side as she struggled to control her breathing, he couldn't help himself, she looked so beautiful. He found himself unwillingly walking himself to her and then climbing on the mattress, his hands reached out and he stroked the side of her flushed face softly. "Christine you must sleep this off…"

"I don't want to." She whispered, looking to where his face was with sad eyes, "I want to be with you."

"You deserve better than this horrible face and this marred body Christine. I will not take you." He begged her to see reason.

"I want you to kiss me Erik," she whispered gently, reached up and searching for his face, he allowed her to cup his cheek and tie her fingers into his hair, her most willing slave, "please kiss me Erik."

"Oh Christine…" he murmured weakly and pulled back away from her, "I cannot do this thing. I cannot, I cannot…" He chanted, mostly for his own sake.

"Don't leave me Erik… please… I'm sorry." She stated quietly. The rejection stung at her, but she did not wish to lose him over it.

"I would never leave you," he embraced her silently; and then very suddenly he was angry with her. Angry with her because she had tried to kiss him in the first place, angry with her because she did not understand that he was a man with needs and wants, angry with her because she tempted with him, angry with her because she was so strong and stubborn, "you must never do that again." He stated firmly, his voice returning to the coldness she had grown so used to. When she stiffened he tightened his grip her body as she lay against him quietly, "but you and I… we can never be. You know that. Everything must return to normalcy tomorrow Christine. I will forgive your curiosity and your _stupidity_ tonight. But _never_ let it happen again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Erik."She croaked out.

He heard her whimper as he pulled away from her and turned his back to her, fighting all the emotions within himself Erik bit back the burning in his eyes and listened quietly until she fell asleep.

Only then did he allow a few stray tears to slip from behind his mask.

* * *

**Wow, that chapter took me a long time to write, mainly because I didn't know whether or not I wanted to have Christine make the first move.**

**But then I realized that as a woman of 18 years of age Christine is becoming sexually aware. I also didn't want my Christine to be the one that denies her attraction, I wanted her to be bold and daring and honest about how she felt and not ashamed anymore. Instead I wanted her to be the one to take initiative and say this is how I feel, the end. Certainly she fights with her feelings. But I also wanted to display her impulsive nature, she became aware of her feelings and instantly took charge of the situation without thinking of Erik's own emotions as Erik is usually displayed as the one to do that.**

**So! Yeah! That's my little explanation :) I really hope you all enjoyed this one. I felt my heart cracking as I wrote it haha!**

**So tell me what you thought. Questions maybe? **

**Questions: **

**1. Should Erik have had kissed her?**

**2. Do you think that Christine downplayed what happened between herself and Buquet, and have you ever been in a situation where you know the other person wronged you but you still do not wish them to be harmed in your name? **

**3. Now that Christine is sexually 'aware ' of herself, should she (despite Erik) seek sexual gratification elsewhere or simply wait around? Basically, if you were her friend how would you advise her on what she's feeling. **

**:) Hope you all enjoyed, can't wait to hear your responses. **


	18. Courtesy

**Chapter XVIII**

"This is ridiculous…" Meg muttered under her breath as she glared at Joseph Buquet who watched them from above the stage with a glinting stare. "He's a pig."

"What?" Christine turned to face Meg unsurely. She saw Meg's heated gaze turned up above the stage and knew instantly what it was that she was talking about. "Oh… Meg do not stare." She scolded softly and pulled her by the arm behind the curtains.

After Carlotta's final performance Christine had begged Meg to stay with her. Meg naturally became insanely curious and Christine confessed to being grabbed into a closet by Joseph Buquet. Meg was reeling after she recounted the story, she wanted to tell her mother and Christine begged her not to but was certain that Meg would do it anyway.

"Let's hope the Opera Ghost gets _him_ in a closet." Meg suggested with a smirk as they approached the dressing room.

"Meg there is no opera ghost. And do not speak of such things when we are alone! It frightens me…"

"Oh Christine do not worry, the Opera Ghost would love you!" Christine rolled her eyes, "you are a wonderful singer afterall."

Christine ignored that, "how is Henri?"

"Oh he is wonderful," Meg's eyes glittered, "I am seeing him tonight."

"That is wonderful, I must meet him at some point in time."Christine pushed the dressing room door open and gasped.

"The_r_e you a_r_e."Carlotta sat there with her flaming red hair wound tightly into a bun against the crown of her skull. Her eyes flashed with rage at the very sight of Christine, her painted lips were pursed with anger.

"You were waiting for me?" Christine addressed her with confusion. Whatever would this woman want with her?

"Most ce_r_tainly, little Ch_r_istine," Her high-pitched voice made Christine wince, "I wish to know what it is that you a_r_e plotting."

Meg raised a brow along with Christine, "what I am plotting?"

"Do not p_r_etend to be so innocent befo_r_e me!" Carlotta stood in a single jerked movement and bunched her hands into her elaborate blue satin dress, "I know of you_r_ f_r_iendship with the vincomte," she turned her nose up haughtily, "my _fiancée_."

"Madame," Christine addressed her coldly now, "if you should understand anything at all let it be that Raoul de Chagny and I are not friends. Once, long ago we might have been but we are not friends now."

"Then why does he speak of you so fondly," Carlotta's voice dropped to a threatening growl as she stomped into Christine's face, Meg Giry stood there, flabbergasted as the red haired woman glared down at the much smaller lady before her, "answe_r_ me."

"He speaks fondly of Christine?" Meg Giry questioned, feigning innocence, "How sweet of him… is that not kind of him Christine?" Carlotta turned her eyes on Meg who was even shorter then Christine. The little blonde ballerina even had the gall to grin up at her, "I suppose he is simply enthralled by miss Daae, wouldn't you agree?"

"How da_r_e you!" Carlotta jabbed a finger into Meg's face as the blonde dancer laughed, "do not eve_r_ presume that my fiancée would _ever_ be so inte_r_ested in a bland girl such as Ch_r_istine Daae-

"And do not presume to know things when you do not." Christine stepped in between Meg and Carlotta, she would not allow Meg to be hurt by this evil thing before her now, "Raoul de Chagny and I are not friends as I have said. And I do not take kindly to you assuming that because he may speak kind words of me that I am plotting something against your marriage. I pose no threat to your happiness."

"As if you eve_r_ could." Carlotta muttered at her, keeping her eyes locked with Christine's, "tell me the t_r_uth of it Christine, are you envious of my impending ma_rr_iage? Do you plan to seduce him with your flat chest and the gaping hole between you_r_ legs?"

Christine halted in her thought process as she considered the question. The prospects of having any last name but her own never really occurred to her. And she never thought to share a romance with Raoul de Chagny … certainly the idea of them together had crossed across her mind, but never with any serious consideration. And now she was being compared to a common whore? "Madame I do not wish to insult you… but you seem to give me no choice." Meg laughed bluntly at Carlotta's shocked expression, "never in a hundred years would I wish to marry a man that does not love me. Raoul and I are not friends, merely acquaintances. If he praises me it is out of courteousy and nothing more. You yourself are to be married to the man and yet you envy his praise of me…" Christine stopped with a pondering expression, "Is it that because your fiancée does not pay you enough attention that you come investigate me? – so that perhaps you might gather some insight as to what it is that he likes about me as he cannot find it within you?"

The sting didn't come until after Chrstine realized what had happened.

"How dare you!" Meg shrieked with rage and flew at Carlotta whose palm burned from the now stinging slap she had delivered to Christine. Meg's small hands dove into the neat red hair on the woman's head and then she pulled viciously.

Christine watched with mild confusion as Carlotta fell to her knee's and shrieked madly.

"Meg! Meg, release her!" Christine yelped with panic, flying at Meg now and wrapping her arms around her much smaller waist and pulling her so that she might free Carlotta who was screaming as her hair came streaming off her head by the roots. But Meg would not let go! "Meg stop it!"

"_R_elease me! _R_elease!" Carlotta shrieked madly. Her hands were in a tug of war over a rope of hair Meg had become so dearly attached to that she even coiled it into her hands. "Oh! Please! Please!"

"Meg stop it!" Christine yelled and tugged again but this only served to yank Carlotta more.

"What is the meaning of this?" She heard a male voice exclaim. For a moment she looked to the mirror, fearing that it was Erik but then she looked to the doorway and found Raoul there with a horrified gaze. _Of course it is Raoul,_ she mentally groaned as if Meg were not still pulling so angrily. "Meg release her!" Raoul commanded and marched over on his long legs and grabbed Meg's wrist. Carlotta shrieked madly still as Raoul tried to unwind her hair from Meg's deathly grip.

"Meg please release her!" Christine begged.

"I shall release her when she apologizes!" Meg angrily told Christine while giving one fierce tug again. Carlotta was now sobbing and Raoul gently tried to reason with Meg.

"Meg, release her, if you'd be so kind. Come, come let us see the offense remedied with kind words and not… locks of hair on the wooden floor." His voice had dropped to a gentle soothing tone. Meg glared up at him angrily and opened her hand and began twisting her hand wildly, unwinding the long red hair. Carlotta fell away with a gasp and then placed her hands on her scalp as if it might fly to the ceiling.

"Apologize!" Meg hurled at Carlotta who still kneeled on the ground.

Christine pressed her back against the wall, trying to breathe normally.

"What on earth did she do?" Raoul asked, going to the aid of Carlotta and stroking her hair as she pressed her cheek to his chest.

"She came in here accusing Christine of trying to ruin your impending marriage, that is what she did!" Meg explained angrily.

Raoul's body seemed to stiffen and then he placed his hands on Carlotta's shaking shoulders and pulled her to arms length, bringing her to her feet. "Is this true?"

"_Raoul_," Christine almost pitied the sound of Carlotta's voice. Almost, "my darling-

"How dare you!" He shook her once and then pushed her away. She stumbled back, heaving and fighting for breath, "You know that she is my friend-

"She explained to me that you were not!" Carlotta sobbed, "That is why I grew confused!"

"But then you struck her!" Meg glared at her so harshly that Raoul placed himself between her and Carlotta for fear that she might leap again. He noticed Christine against the wall with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and steadily.

"I will ruin your dancing career," Carlotta promised with teary red eyes, "you have ruined yourself tonight Meg Giry."

"You will do no such thing." Raoul glared at his fiancée now, "Not if you do not wish me to end this marriage at this very moment without allowing you even the slightest courtesy of explaining yourself later. Your own career will be tarnished as you struck Christine first."

Carlotta let out a harsh whimper and then made a movement towards the door. Her hair was wild and tangled about her face, "I will wait for you in the carriage."

"Or you can go to the street corner where you belong!" Meg threw at her before the door closed.

There was a terrible silence for a long moment before Meg's shoulders drooped as if she had suddenly become exhausted and she then turned to Christine whose eyes had opened, "forgive me Christine-

"Do not ask for forgiveness…" Christine gently told her, taking her red hands in her own, "you protected me and for that I am grateful."

Meg smiled softly and then turned to Raoul who was looking at the floor and the mess upon it, all the things that had been on the dresser were now on the floorboard from the struggle. "And you, what brings you here?"

Raoul looked down to Meg, "I came in search of my fiancée; she told me that after the performance she wished to meet with me. I searched everywhere for her and assumed that she would be here."

"Or did you come in search of Christine?" Meg's voice became coy. Raoul blushed and Christine looked away, embarrassed. "I need to go Christine, I fear that my mother might come in search for me and I do not wish to be here if she does… she will instantly know that I had something to do with this mess-

"Meg please stay-

"Forgive me," Meg smiled, "but I do have a gentleman waiting for me too you know?" She kissed Christine softly on the cheek and bumped her shoulder purposely with Raoul, he raised a brow with confusion but smiled at her fire.

And then she was alone with him.

When his eyes made their way to her she could see whatever calm he had ebb away from him and then it gave way to anger. "Meg please stay?" He asked with offense, "Do you think I will hurt you?"

"I do not know what to expect from anyone at all anymore." Christine said blankly, recalling Raoul's advances, Joseph Buquet's approach, Erik's rejection, her own remarks at Carlotta, Carlotta's burning slap, and Meg's fiery temper. She touched her cheek absently… she wished Erik to be here to save her from all this social torment.

"Christine I would never lay a hand on you!" Raoul's voice became fervent and he walked to her yet again, noticing how she stiffened at his approach, "What has happened between us Christine? Did I not try to save you from that vile man from before?"

"I warned you!" She exclaimed, "do not speak ill of him-

"How do you defend him?" Raoul snapped impatiently, "I saw him, I saw that mask Christine! I will not allow you to be in-

"'Allow' me?" She laughed, no longer caring for seriousness, "you think that you can allow me anything? This is your entire fault, Raoul!" He gaped at her, "Because of you I have been relentlessly attacked because you will not cease this improper and blatant affection you hold for me."

"Improper?" He rasped at her and grabbed her by the arm, she fought quietly against him, hoping to God that Erik was not behind the mirror, _if Raoul believes that he is safe from Eriks gaze because we are in an enclosed room he is sorely mistaken. _"What is improper is not my affection for you it is that _you_ will not let me go!" He shook her once to stiffen her movements, she glared at him as he clutched her by her upper arms, "you deliberately avoid me and it only makes me want to see you more! How is that my fault? What is improper about my desperate need to have you near to me?" He looked like he was at the point of tears.

"Raoul stop this, please, I beg you…" her voice felt weary, "I do not feel the same way for you. I do not –

"But that is because of him, do you not understand?" He whispered patiently, "I understand that you are afraid of us being alone, I understand that now. I saw how he reacted when he swept down like the beast that he is-" she started to protest the insult but he continued speaking, "I understand that you are frightened to be away from the man. But Christine," he pleaded, "do you not see that he is sheltering you precisely so that you might never feel safe around anyone but him?"

The thought made her stiffen and he saw it so he continued, "did he harm you when you returned to your home?"

"No," Christine murmured, recalling how Erik had simply pushed her back to the bed every time she tried to get up, making her struggles useless.

"He had better not," Raoul growled, "I'd kill him-

"Raoul, get out." She stated firmly and pulled her arms out of his grasp, "I want to go home!"

"Then come with me out the door-

"I will not have you following me back to where I live so that your fiancée might come back here accusing me of sleeping with you!"

"She did not do that did she?" He stared wide eyed.

"She might as well have!" Her eyes narrowed, "You should warn her that the next time she lays a hand upon me she might not have so lucky a fate as having Meg Giry come flying at her." _Next time she might have a lasso around her throat. _

"Are you threatening Carlotta?"

"I am not threatening; I am making her a promise." Christine turned to the mirror and looked at her red cheek, "you saw how my guardian is, you see how he knows everything. He is not a man to be trifled with Raoul, which goes for you too. Now, stop telling your fiancée that you and I are friends. I do not wish for you to pursue me anymore. Kindly show yourself out the door." She huffed, sitting down and dropping her forehead into her hands.

There was silence for a moment, "You are cruel Christine." He whispered, she looked up and saw his watery eyes, "You look and speak to me as though I were an enemy."

"What would you rather I spoke to you as?" She wanted her voice to sound strong, cold, distant, but instead it was thick.

"A man that is in love with you, that is all…" He strode from the room without another word and closed the door quietly behind him.

"And what of me Raoul? What of what I want?"

**…**

It was only a few more moments before the mirror slid open. Christine stepped back away from it and waited for Erik.

Ever since the night of his rejection she tried her best to not touch him, things had gone back to normal in most aspects but only because she made the constant effort to not act as if though something was amiss. But something was amiss.

She wanted to kiss him even more now. Everything he did suddenly made her enthralled; it was the way he stared at things, without moving his eyes as if he could see right through everything or everyone in the room with him. It was his knowledge, his few words… she wanted to know everything he knew. She wanted to know why he wore so much dark colors, why he did not try to make a life for himself elsewhere above ground away from people, how he had come to know Nadir, how he gotten himself involved with music, why he chose the words he did when he spoke…

He was fascinating.

When the mirror was set aside she watched Erik for a long moment as his eyes drank in the sight of the red hand print of her left cheek. "I could kill her." His voice was deadly, "I waited for you here. And when she came in I thought she would leave. But she sat here for thirty minutes. Then you came in with the Giry girl. I wished to come out the instant her accusations began Christine."

"I guessed you were there," Christine murmured quietly, stepping forward and past the mirror, "I'm glad you did not reveal yourself. That would have been very dangerous."

"Yes, I would have killed at her right then and there." He closed the mirror and then led her into the tunnels.

"Please don't hurt her Erik," his eyes narrowed at her words, "I understand that yes the woman is vile. I understand that she is ludicrous but I hardly think that a spat about Raoul de Chagny calls for death." It was then that she realized that he had most certainly watched her with Raoul. Her eyes snapped to his shadowy figure as it moved through the dank tunnels. He said nothing.

When they got onto the boat he spoke up, "does your cheek sting?" She smiled; she could hear him trying to reign in his anger. She had no idea of how hard he was fighting to not frighten her.

"Not so much anymore."

"Do you wish to sing?"

"I'd like nothing more," she assured him watching the exposed side of his face carefully, even there he wore a mask. She had learned to read his subtle expressions, Christine noticed the narrowed amber eyes, the slight crease at the corner of his nostrils as if he were preparing to sneer… yes, he was upset.

"I have a mind to write to the managers, I want them to produce my opera," Erik watched her face in the dark, her eyes widened, "you would have the main role of course. I will not have that… thing ruin my music."

Christine laughed; his shoulders relaxed as he allowed a small smirk to crawl to the surface, "Carlotta will probably not perform for quite some time. Her hair needs to grow back first."

"I must thank the Giry girl for that."

"We could send her a wig as compensation for the hair she lost."

"And a plug for the voice she thinks she has." Erik said seriously.

Christine laughed loudly at that.

When they reached the lair Christine immediately went to the piano and they began to rehearse.

Christine was so lost in the music that she became oblivious to Erik's blatant stare. He had never seen her as beautiful as she looked now, even with her red cheek.

Her body sang to him now too. He had had no taste of her lips, and he had yet to run his hands over the length of her sides and drink in the sight of her in the throes of passion. He knew he had not had enough when she came to him at night, but he had too much already.

When she had confessed to him her desire to be kissed by him and his ghastly mouth he was flattered, then angered, and now curious.

_I do not believe in a God, but … my _God_. _He thought as her voice soared, _how can there be such a creature in the world, and of all the places for her to be she is here with me. She wants to be kissed by me, she wants _my_ blood stained hands upon her, not that boy's. _

No, his sweet Christine did not want Raoul. She had displayed that plainly in the dressing room today. He believed that it was what kept him so sickeningly calm even when he felt that his rage would boil over at the sight of him approaching her yet again. It was her rejection of Raoul but her wanton urge for Erik's lips that made him almost stiffen now.

_My lips, she wants me… she wants this darkness._

_And yet I cannot give it to her._ Erik corrected her on a note, explaining that she was to annunciate more and elongate the last _Aah_ to reach the full effect of the verse.

But how he wished to give it to her! _But then what would that mean? She and I could never have a normal relationship; she and I will never know each other more than we do now. I resent the idea of letting her into my world of sadness and bitter memories. What kindness would that be after I have sheltered her so? What pain would that cause her to know what I have been through?_

_What is the good in this?_ He pondered as she sang. _Is the good in it that I myself share bits of information that are painful for me to recollect? Just so that she might be sad as well when I allow her into my world? I am not so selfish!_

"Erik," Christine stared at him with confusion as he continued playing. She had finished singing a few moments ago and yet he continued playing. The song went from being romantic to sounding deeply morose. She had looked through the score in her hands, wondering if she had missed some part but no… she had finished the entire song and yet he continued. "Erik?"

His eyes slid to her, "yes?"

"Are you alright?"

"I am fine Christine," he assured her, exasperated nonetheless. She cared too much for his emotions and his wellbeing, it did not go unappreciated but it only made him yearn for her. Everything she did made him need her more. It was painstaking just to be around her when she _read_, even that made him love her!

_Love her? _He frowned and Christine began to grow more confused, _yes, yes… I knew it the night she first sang from my Don Juan. _He recalled how she had shakily looked at the score,_ so charming in her dreary attempts at seduction. And yet I love Christine with all her imperfections. What a perfect monster I have become, flattering the idea that I should even be worthy of loving her! Now I am not only horrible on the outside, but awful on the inside. I am a damn fool!_

"That is enough for tonight." Erik stood up sharply. "You've done well. Practice your breath more; I do not want you gasping when the time of the performance comes."

"Yes." She nodded obediently.

He strode past her silently and shut himself up in his room for the rest of the evening.

When Christine lay in bed, recollecting all the things that Raoul had told her, her eyes widened. She had ignored something he had said and only now did she recall it. And Erik had heard every word surely… She groaned, this was getting horribly complicated.

_ "What would you rather I spoke to you as?"_ she had asked him.

_"A man that is in love with you, that is all…" _he had responded.

* * *

**Daw, poor everyone, no? Or are we happy about what happened to Carlotta haha! And what happened to Raoul?**

**Review darlings, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :) This chapter was fun, and we are approaching -dun-dun-dun the unmasking! I'm so excited as I had a great thing planned!**

**REVIEW - it only takes a minute :)**


	19. The Stage

**Chapter XIX**

"Carlotta won't even look in our direction," Meg giggled.

Christine shrugged, "I don't want to look at her either."

"After the thrashing I gave her I doubt she wants to look at _anyone_. That woman had it coming. You are not angry with me are you?" Meg asked with a wary gaze, "you are my best friend Christine; I can hardly stand to think-

"I am not angry with you," Christine smiled warmly; "it is simply that I do not wish to talk about people who matter so little. It gets me upset and I would rather turn my thoughts to more.. pleasant thing."

Meg nodded with a smile, "do you know about the new opera, Don Juan Triumphant? The score came in today."

Christine's eyes bulged, Erik had sent it already? "No, what of it?" She feigned confusion.

"It is apparently unbelievably sensual," Meg giggled as she and Christine moved around a set piece.

Christine knew what she was talking about and shuddered, she could still feel Erik's hands on her arms, skating down, his lips on her ear, "that is going to be strange to perform… did they cast it yet?"

"That's the best part," Meg laughed, "the composer, who remains anonymous, has a very _specific_ list of people he would like to be in the cast." She grinned at Christine, "How have you not heard?"

"I am inclined to keep to myself, you know that."

"Yes but if you have the main role you should know these things!"

Christine pretended to be shocked. "I have the main role?"

"Absolutely," Meg grinned proudly, "Miss Daae will be playing the lead, and Carlotta will be a member of the chorus with the rest of us." She laughed at that and then grew solemn, "but this is not really all that funny. The Opera Ghost wrote it, so we shall be very careful when performing it. We must do it perfectly, or else someone shall pay gravelly for any mistakes that are made."

Christine stiffened, "why do you immediately assume that because the composer is anonymous that he is this 'Opera Ghost' that you are all so fascinated with?"

Meg shrugged, "he sent it with a letter of course."

"And what is the relevance of this note?" Chrisitne asked, confused.

"Well he sent it to the managers and he signed it. He signed it _Opera Ghost_."

The hairs stood up on their ends on Christine's arms. She shook her head, refusing to believe that perhaps the presence… this Opera Ghost that they so often speak of was Erik. He had been here as long as the rumors had been… it all made sense. But she refused to believe it. Horrible rumors stirred about the Opera Ghost. There were rumors of the people he killed, his thundering anger when he was disobeyed… his face and his violence.

_God, please no… my Ange and this Opera Ghost cannot be the same person! There are tales that the Opera Ghost has killed on the stage! During performances!_

Eventually Meg departed stating that she had to get home. Christine bid her farewell and continued making her way through the halls until she reached the lavish door to the manager's office. She would inquire about the role, and hopefully get more information. Her hands trembled as she approached, inside she could hear a feud.

_"Have you seen the size of my part!" _Carlotta's voice. Christine resisted a snicker despite the seriousness of the moment, but knowing that Erik refused to have Carlotta sing her own lines was mildly amusing.

"_It's an insult!"_ The newcomer Piangi said, trying to gain the favor of Carlotta. It was very obvious to everyone that he worshipped her. From the moment they had introduced Piangi to the rest of the dancers and singers it was obvious that he felt a very strong attraction to the diva. His lips would linger longer than necessary on her hand and furthermore he was always clapping… when she was simply rehearsing _vocal exercises._

_"I cannot change the score!"_ Firmin exclaimed back, _"The Opera Ghost was very clear about his instructions!"_

_… he cannot be that horrible thing of children's nightmares. _Christine knocked valiantly on the door, it was pulled open very suddenly and she was looking directly into the eyes of Piangi. His round face blushed at her and he stepped aside.

"Good afternoon monsieur Piangi," Christine smiled warmly and stepped within the room. Firmin looked to her with a grin, he had been growing tired of Carlotta and Christine found that he was becoming fonder of her in turn.

"Good afternoon Miss Daae," Piangi smiled sheepishly.

Carlotta looked to the two smiling males and then at Christine, and rolled her eyes; she said nothing to the brunette and simply glared out the window.

Firmin, who stood behind his gold colored desk greeted Christine and then promptly asked her what she wanted.

"I simply wished to discuss this opera, Don Juan Triumphant… I understand that it was written by a… an anonymous composer. But as I approached I heard ridiculous rumors of an Opera Ghost," she laughed nervously, he raised a brow at her, "is there any proof of an opera ghost in this establishment, sir?"

"Most certainly." Monsieur Firmin nodded and reached into his drawer, she stiffened, "I have a letter… well, many letters regarding this play and yourself right in this drawer Miss Daae. Here, take a look."

He handed her three letters, her hands trembled and she reached forward, ignoring Carlotta and Piangi who stared at her with interest. She took them carefully and smoothed out the first one, it read:

_Dear Monsieur's,_

_I have enclosed with this letter a new opera. I have written it myself and therefore demand that you treat my work with the utmost respect. I wish this opera, Don Juan Triumphant, to debut sometime in the spring. As you know I expect absolute perfection. _

_Now, because I know exactly what it is that I picture I will inform you now that you will cast Christine Daae in the main role alongside a man of my future choosing. If my orders are not followed perfectly I will know of it. But I do not think I need to tell you that._

_-Opera Ghost_

Christine released a hard breath that she had been holding and looked at the next letter. This one was simply about his salary, and then the third detailed his expectations for roles and casting. He made it very clear that Madame Giry should be in charge of choreography and once again insisted that they find someone to sing for the role of Don Juan.

All were signed, Opera Ghost.

"Miss Daae, you've gone pale, are you alright?" Firmin asked and stepped around the desk before approaching her. "Miss Daae?"

"I am fine," she murmured, trying to keep calm.

_Erik is the Opera Ghost, the one accused of hanging those who disobey him within this establishment, the one who knocks down set pieces in attempts to kill Carlotta… the one who guides me through everything… I've lived a lie. But no!_ she fought with herself as she handed the letters back to the manager who watched her with a wary gaze – _no Erik has not made my life a lie has he? I've watched him kill… I know he has killed before. He's done it only to protect me. Yes, yes, and perhaps those who were killed here were bad people. Erik would never harm an innocent person. Erik is good! Erik is sane…_

Christine escaped the room quickly and went off in random directions; she had no idea where she was going. But as she approached the auditorium she knew instantly who she was looking for. Madame Giry would have the answers, Erik seemed to never have any complaints about this woman, and surely she would know something about this. She had been here nearly as long as Erik if not longer!

But Christine still did not know what it was that she was planning to ask. There was no doubt that Erik was the legend of the Opera Ghost.

When she approached the stage she heard muted voices becoming clearer the closer she drew. For a moment she thought it was the dancers but then she heard his familiar voice.

"Madame Giry," Raoul sounded annoyed, "what do you mean?"

"A man," she answered him softly, whispering, "locked in a cage. You tell me you saw him? He never leaves his home.."

Raoul scoffed, "I saw him as clearly as I see you now. I tell you he swept upon us like a beast, and I tried to protect her Madame, I did! But he was going to attack me and he would have had Christine not so valiantly pleaded for me."

Erik, they were talking about Erik…

"Now tell me what you know of this man. I know you know something, I give money to this opera house and I have seen the letters. I recognized his voice! I remember it from my youth, he himself told me that he was the Opera Ghost when I was younger, he tried to keep me away from her then and he is doing it now, so do not try to tell me that you know nothing of him. I see how he favors you above all other choreographers in those letters. Now tell me what you know."

Christine had never heard Raoul like this. He sounded so adamant, so controlling. He sounded like he had grabbed parts of Erik's personality, he was not asking, he was not pleading, he was demanding. And Erik had spoken to him in his youth? She had never been told…

"Oh monsieur I can't… I cannot-

"Madame, if you do not tell me…" Raoul did not finish his threat. Christine stepped forward, unsure and curious but still shielded behind the curtain. She dared not peek around.

"Years ago I went to a carnival… a carnival of oddities – you see. I…" She paused and cleared her throat, "I saw a man. But hardly a man and his face was distorted, so distorted Vincomte it was a horror. For those all around him and for himself. There were mirrors in his cage you see and he refused to look at them when ordered to by the man who kept him locked in there."

"My God."

"For this he received whippings… it was a gruesome sight. I knew that it was also illegal, you cannot have a man as a slave." She paused, "I helped him out of there. It was a hassle but I did it. He was confused by my help at first but eventually he trusted me enough to follow me to the streets. I took him to a friend of mine, Nadir Khan."

"Nadir Khan!" Raoul exclaimed, Christine's eyes closed. "I know this man! I know him! You tell me he knew of this... this Opera Ghost, Khan knew that this is the very same man who now holds Christine?" He sounded so confused and horrified and so shocked that Christine thought he might faint.

"Nadir Khan and this man _who shall remain nameless_ knew one another for a long time it turns out… When I brought him to the house imagine his shock when he saw him. Nadir Khan exploded into worry, and this is a very calm man. He worried so badly that he was trembling as he stitched the wounds on his back. He then explained to me that he had lost track of this Opera Ghost after leaving Persia."

"My God."

"And so you see monsieur… you must not pursue him. You do not know what this man is capable of for her. He loves her; he looks at her with eyes that soften _only_ for her. And she loves him-

"I refuse to believe that-

"Their bond is stronger than any you can imagine," her voice held a quiver and Christine held back a tear, yes they held a bond stronger than anything she could have ever imagined… _my Erik, my ange, my opera ghost, _"she will protect him… I promise you."

"I will not allow her to fall to the hands of that madman!"

Christine bit her tongue against the impulse to scream and jump from behind the curtains of the stage as if _she_ were a mad woman on a rampage.

"She is not falling, Raoul," Madame Giry told him softly in a motherly tone, "do you not see how happy she is? Do you not see all the amazing opportunities that he is giving her-

"He is giving her nothing." Raoul said shortly, "he is hiding her from the world and putting her on a stage. That is not giving her opportunity that is living vicariously. He can never have the fame he wishes so he puts her on the stage and feels it through her. He is using her." The words bit at Christine, she didn't know why they stung her so much… the idea that Erik might actually be doing that was so hurtful that she wished to dismiss it but found that she could not.

"Leave him in peace Monseiur, he is not to be trifled with." Madame Giry warned.

"I would really appreciate it if people stopped telling me that." Raoul bit at her and then Christine heard him stomping off in a different direction.

She ran all the way to the dressing room and sat there struggling for breath.

It should not have shocked her really; she knew that Erik did little things here and there that resembled those acts that were often blamed on the Opera Ghost. But it hurt her to think that Erik was associated with that name, that Erik was that name.

**…**

Erik did not know why but he could not stop thinking about Christine's childhood and all her strange quirks. It seemed to him that it was all spurned by the kiss she had tried to initiate. Perhaps it was his guilty conscience, reminding him of how he had raised her, how wrong it was…

He could recall as if it were happening before him one evening when he had fallen sick. It rarely happened but it was a reminder that despite his monstrous face he too was human and therefore he too must care after himself.

He had stayed at the piano all day, annoyed and struggling to compose with the coughs threatening to break his ribs apart. Christine who had been in her room came curiously out, rubbing her eyes tiredly and staring at him. Of course he didn't have to look at her to know that she was there.

"Yes, Christine?" His voice was low and he struggled to keep it smooth.

"Erik, have you fallen ill?"

He rolled his eyes, "I will be fine Christine, this is not for you to concern yourself with."

Her footsteps came closer to him and he stiffened. Why could she not just stay in her room and leave him alone? He did not wish to discuss how he had fallen to such a stupid illness, "you are ill are you not?" She asked again, coming closer and then gently placing a hand on the piano.

He looked at her and frowned, she burst into a wild laughter at his expression, "this is not funny."

"It is very funny," Christine disagreed whole heartedly. There was a twinkle in her eyes that embarrassed him, there was too much interest in his well being from her, "there is nothing wrong with being sick."

"Except being sick," he countered, standing to his full height. She stared up at him with a smile, "this is ridiculous." He muttered and made his way to the kitchen. It was as he was approaching it that a wave of dizziness casts itself over him. He stopped and fell back into a chair.

"Sit down dear Ange," Christine chuckled and made her way to the kitchen, he scowled at her, "I will make you some soup and you will feel better before you know it. Shall I get Nadir to check you over?" Erik tossed her a look, again she laughed. She knew how much he despised Nadir knowing anything that concerned him.

"You do not have to make me food, I can do-

"Allow me this one gesture," she responded as she got all the necessary ingredients, "and do not look so wary, I have seen you cook over the years even when you think I haven't, I know exactly what to do."

And so Christine had set out to make him food.

Now Erik couldn't help but feel a bit amused by the entire situation. She had done her best to take care of him in his dank home. She had gone as far as to move all the candles to his room in an effort to keep him warm, although she made it very clear that she had no intention of helping put them back. She pretended to sleep while he moved them to their proper place, and only when he was done did she wake up, pretending that she had no idea of what had been happening. But the mischievous twinkle in her eyes gave her away.

How she had grown… how beautiful she had become, how her voice has matured to the perfection Erik had always sought. Certainly it wasn't its best yet, there are degrees to perfection… soon she would reach her fullest potential, he was certain of it.

And now he had to deal with Buquet. Just the thought of that man trying to put a hand on anything in this opera house enraged him, further more the knowledge that he had tried to harm Christine made him go over the edge. Did that man intend to take away the only happiness Erik knew? The only woman to ever show any signs of love towards him? Erik basked in Christine's stare and Buquet wished to dim whatever happiness she had by touching her and making her life hell. Erik was not having that. He would not have Buquet snuff out the only source of peace in his life. And he would not have her harmed, she was his and he was hers.

He had to kill him. Christine had told him that she would not forgive him if he did it… but she should never know that it was him. All of the opera would blame it on the Opera Ghost.. but Christine did not believe in the folklore of the tales behind the Opera Ghost, so how would this work?

He sighed heavily and stood. He would simply wait for Buquet to slip and tempt his hand, he knew it would happen.

**…**

She stood at the center of the stage with a wary gaze. She did not know why but she wanted to practice, Erik would probably hear her from down in their home, and while she wished this to be private she knew that there was no privacy when it came to her and him. He had all the privacy but she did not.

"Little Lotte, thought of everything and nothing, her father promised her that he would send her the angel of music. Her father promised her, her father _promised_ her," she sang, "you were once my one companion, you were all that mattered, you were once a friend and a father," her voice clogged and she swallowed, "then my world was shattered.

"Wishing you were somehow here again, wishing you were somehow near. Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here," she paused, looked around to see if anyone was watching and then dove back into the improvised song, "wishing I could hear your voice again, knowing that I never would… dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could.

"Passing bells and sculpted angels – cold and monumental… seem for you the wrong companions. You were warm and gentle," she resisted a tear and paused… _who am I singing to? Erik ? Papa?_ "Too many years fighting back tears," she drew a deep breath, "why can't the past just die?! Wishing you were some_hoow_ here again. Knowing we must say good-bye!" Her voice grew fervent, "_Try_ to forgive! Teach me to live. Give me the strength to try!

"No more memories! No more silent tears, no more gazing across the wasted years…." her voice dropped, "help me say goodbye." and rose beautifully, "help me say good-bye!"

A moment of silence filled the auditorium and she stared out, imagining that her father sat somewhere and clapped at her. She grinned, taking a dramatic bow to no one.

"Brava!" A voice called from the left wing of the stage. She whirled as clapping really did fill her ears. Joseph Buquet stood there with a mocking grin, "Ya' sing like an angel little Christine."

She blushed, "thank you sir…"

"Did ya' come up wit' those lyrics ya'self? Very powerful, very powerful indeed.

She paused, not knowing what to say… "it just came naturally to me sir, my vocal coach teaches me a lot of about improvisation," she backed up from him as he started stepping forward, there were many feet of distance between them, "just in case I forget words. I have been thinking of that song for a while now and so I just decided to practice here for a while."

Joseph grinned exposing his horrible teeth. Her teeth were not perfect either, but his were a disaster, "and so ya' come lookin' for ol' Buquet with that voice, ah?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, please do not pretend to not know," Joseph eyes widened as did his grin, his eyes shined, "you know very well that young girls like ya'self should not be alone in this opera house so late at night. Ya' should be at home… but you are always here, aren't ya' Christine?"

She bit her lip, unsure of what to say to that, "Essentially you are arguing that I should lock myself up because men cannot keep their hands to themselves?" Her eyes flashed, "I am not going to live a life of fear because others cannot control their own behavior. I stay late to practice-

"Do I seem to be that stupid?" Buquet laughed a horrible raspy laugh, "I never did demand that much respect so I assume I do seem like an ignorant fool. But tell me, did you think that I would not notice the way ya' so mischieviously sneak into the dressing room and never come out?"

She stiffened horribly, "I-I … why do you watch me go into my dressing room?"

"I don't."

"Then how do you know when I go in or when I do not come out?" Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously, he stopped walking to her and shrugged, "I will speak to the managers about this if you give me further cause."

"And I will tell them of how ya' stay in this establishment long after it is supposed to be empty."

"So then you do watch me!"

"So then ya' do not leave!" He quipped with a laugh. "Tell me, do you sleep with the Opera Ghost?" Her hands balled into tight fists. "Shall I take that silence as a yes?" His eyes glinted, "the vincomte de Chagny should like to hear word of this."

"What does Raoul have to do with any of this?"

"Well it was the vincomte de Chagny who first noticed how long you stay here and slowly brought it to the attention of the managers which in turn got back to me, and ya' see I am just so interested in gossip. I had to investigate. And then I saw you," he stabbed a finger in her direction, "go into that dressing room at night and not come out until mornin'."

"I slept in there," she lied, "it was far too dark to walk home and so I slept on the couch in there. Or did you walk in and spy on me then too?"

He cackled at this and then grew very serious, "did ya' know that the vincomte is to call off his wedding to Carlotta?"

Her eyes widened, "no, I did not."

"Yes… all for you." He let out a hoarse chuckle, "little does he know that he is in love with the Opera Ghost's whore-

"_That was the last straw Buquet."_

They both stiffened. Neither of them had said that. Christine looked up to the scaffolds instantly as the voice had come from above. But she saw no one there.

Joseph Buquet let out a cry and her eyes fell on him as he fell backwards.

Erik had him around the neck and had wrapped his long legs around the larger mans belly from behind. Buquet fell back on Erik who did not release him.

"Erik! No, no!" She shrieked as she noticed that Buquet's face was turning tomato red and his eyes were bulging forward. Her knees quaked as Erik tightened the rope.

"Ya' bastard!" Buquet rasped angrily and tried to hit Erik. His arms flailed above his head and Christine yelled for Erik to stop it but he would not hear it. He rolled onto Buquet's body and crossed his hands together, pressing them against the bigger mans throat, trying desperately to squeeze the life from his body.

"No, no, please don't! Don't do this!" Christine shrieked. He would have a police force on him! Did he think that he could simply kill Buquet and that there would be on consequences? Everyone would surely lose their jobs as they investigated! Erik's hands would be tainted yet again! Everything would be ruined. "Erik listen to me please, angel, please!"

"Apologize to her," Erik demanded down at Buquet who was still struggling, his large body made Erik strain to stay on top, "apologize before I kill you," Erik repeated.

"He cannot talk when you are squeezing the life from him Erik stop it!" Christine cried and moved forward, she could not see Erik's face but feared the anger that would be there. All she could see was his back, the muscle's there that were straining against the cloth of his black suit.

Erik released his hold on Josephs throat and the man gasped wildly. Christine almost fainted as Erik stood above the man and stepped on his throat lightly, he spoke again, "say it."

"I'm sorry, Miss D-D-aae!" Joseph sobbed. Christine nodded, hoping to God Erik took the apology and left it at that.

"It's alright Joseph I know you did not mean it," she looked to Erik, he was not looking at her but down at Buquets to was still gasping for breath, the rope was still coiled at his throat, "it's alright, see Erik? Please release him; he will not bother me again."

"I am not so sure." Erik stated and fell above Buquet again. He grabbed the end of the rope tightly and started pulling on it as if Joseph were a dog.

"Erik what are you doing!"

"He will never hurt you," Erik's voice was low and Buquet squealed horribly. The Punjab was getting tighter and Christine pulled at her hair. He would kill this man for her!

"Erik, please, please, _please_ let loose of him. Ange, listen to me!" She struggled for breath, "Ange, please, let him go!"

"AH!" Buquet through his arm up to her shock landed a fist. She yelped when Erik fell to the right and Buquet quickly uncoiled the rope at his neck he gasped and stumbled away from Erik who was already on his feet and had instantly caught the other man by the back of the shirt, "I'll do anything you want!"

"I want you dead," Erik stated grimly. Buquet fell to his knees with a dry sob.

"Erik," Christine croaked when Erik fisted his hands in Buquets collar and pushed him to the floor, "don't kill him because of me."

"This is not because of you Christine, do not taint your conscience," Erik spoke to her but still gave her his back, "he has had this coming for a long time now."

Buquet threw his leg out, kicking Erik in the shins. He crumpled to one knee and when Buquet through a meaty fist into Erik's face.

"Stop it Buquet, please just go!" She pleaded with him, throwing herself forward and trying to stand between her and Erik who was coming to his knees.

"Stand back, little Christine," Buquet ordered, "this fiend will die, and then-

But he never had a chance to finish the statement.

She felt the rope move past her and stiffened when it caught onto Buquets neck. She gasped when he crumbled forward and knocked her backward into Erik who caught her around the waist and crushed her firmly to the front of his body.

"No, no, no," Christine murmured as Erik released her waist and reached forward. He jerked the rope again and now Buquet was coming hurtling at her and him. Easily she fell away as Erik tightened the Punjab one more time.

Buquet fell horribly to his knees with a pool of urine at his legs. She held her breath in both horror and disgust as Erik gave her his profile and stared at Buquet very closely.

"You are dying," Erik informed the man who struggled to loosen the rope. Again Erik gave it a jerk, "do you regret coming into my path now?" His voice was strangely calm, "I told you to leave me in peace. But you have crossed over one too many boundaries."

"Erik don't!"

And with that he gave the rope a last tightening and Buquet's eyes bulged before he stiffened and fell over, his struggles becoming less and less. Erik looked down at the man for a long time, not releasing the tension on the Punjab in the slightest, ensuring that the man was in fact dead, he could still see him sluggishly tugging at the rope. It wasn't so easy to choke the life out of someone, it took a few minutes.

From where Christine was, thrown on the floor from the struggle, she could only see Erik's hand trembling from the tight grasp he still held on the rope.

"Erik please stop it, please, release him." Erik gave a hard breath. "If you care about me at all you will release him. You are not a killer, let him go."

"But I am, that is what I do. It is what I must do-

"You do not have to kill him." Christine tried to keep the trembles from her voice but failed, "Release him… please-

"Do not beg!" Erik snapped at her.

"How can you do this to me?" Christine whispered, his eyes were still on Buquet, "you ask me to not feel guilt but yet you are killing a man in _my_ name! And do not lie to me and pretend that it is for your own personal reasons when you could have done this long ago and chose only now to do it after the events I told you of. Do not kill in my name; I will never forgive you for this!"

Erik released a hard sound and then let go of the rope harshly. Buquet let out a hard gasp and rolled over, his hands went to the rope and he vomited on the floor like a mad man. His hands flailed helplessly as he tried to get away from both Christine and Erik, "you live only because of Miss Daae," Erik snapped harshly, "do not tempt me once again. You know how handy I am with a knife."

Christine flinched at his harsh words as Buquet wept and crawled under the curtains of the stage to crawl away. They listened to his sobs getting farther and farther away before they disappeared completely.

She looked down at her hands with fright as if she would find blood on them. But this was not the case, there was nothing there except her own trembling. She raised her face to Erik who turned to face her fully.

"I should have killed him." He murmured as if in thought, "yes. He does not deserve to live after speaking to you that way. But yet you forgive him and refuse to allow me the delight of ending his life." He looked at her then, her amber eyes were annoyed but then they widened. He knew how shocking it must have been for her to see so much death and almost witness another. It often escaped him how fragile her mind really was, and she sat with her eyes wide and shocked, "are you very angry with me?"

She said nothing, gawking; he sighed and flexed his jaw. Christine's eyes slid to the floor beside him where he had thrown Buquet the first time.

He followed her gaze and narrowed in on the floor.

His gaze grew more intense where his mask currently lay from the struggle.

Then they sliced back to Christine who was staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.

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**...uh... oh. *Runs and hides in the corner from readers* **

**Review for a fast update :D**


	20. Seams

**Warning: From here on out the topics I introduce will be foreign to most Fanfiction stories you'll probably read on here. I'm not saying that to be cocky I'm saying that so that when the subject's come up I don't hear complaint's about how some people are offended by the material presented in my story. The rating will change to M from this chapter forward. **

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter XX**

He gave a supper human cry of grief and rage. "_Do not look at me_!" Grinding his teeth at her and stretching his eyes in rage he cursed and muttered incoherent things while Christine's eyes widened with terror, she could not look away. Not even as he furiously marched in her direction and she struggled to get up. No, no she could not look away! It was so _horrible_. But that was an understatement.

Erik could feel the cool air on his exposed face more than he could feel anything on his body and the more he felt it the more his rage grew.

But the look in her _eyes_, he understood that more than he understood himself at the moment. He understood that horror, it was a part of his life. Everyone had stared at him like that.

As he marched upon her she tried to turn away, he wasn't having that!

"Look! You wished to see! Let your eyes roam on my ugliness. Look at Erik's face! You _grown women_ are _so_ inquisitive, are you satisfied now?"

"Oh, God, oh God," she whispered fervently as Erik reached down and tried to grab her.

Christine moved away from him like an animal in a cage and started coming to her feet, he let out a growl as she pushed herself towards the wings but he ran and grabbed her by the top of her arms and pulled her to him before she could get away. His grip was like a vice on her. Her horror really grew when his yellow eyes stretched terribly in her face.

"_God_? You think _God_ can help you escape this?!" He hissed. She shut her eyes to him. But she could still see it! The skin was marred, completely ruined. And it seemed grey, lilac and yellow! His eye had a slight drop to the lower lid and his cheek was so sunken that it seemed to be missing altogether along with his nostril! "Open your eyes!"

"No, no, no!" Christine whimpered as he shook her horribly.

"Open your eyes or I will do it for you!" He hurled at her. She popped them open in shock and fright for what he would do to her if she did not, "look at me, look upon me Christine, am I your angel still?" His amber eyes burned like if candles had been inserted in his skull head, "Am I not handsome! Look at me!" He then wagged his head and roared, "I AM DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT!"

"Let me go! Let me go!" He was scaring her! He knew it, she knew it, but he would not stop, instead he released his beautiful laugh up to the chandelier above the seats – filling all the space around them and shaking her energetically once more. She turned her face away but he drew her head to him, twisting his fingers into her hair.

"Now you wish to be free of me? Why? So that you might see Raoul de Chagny and his beautiful face? Is Erik not pleasing to your eyes anymore? Or do you wish me to wear my mask! Would that make you happy? You know how I love making you happy!"

Where was Erik? Who was this terrible beast? Was this the Phantom of the Opera? Was this the man who had raised her?

"Erik stop! Stop!" She cried as he grabbed her firmly by the hands. He laughed at her. "No!" She yanked her hands away.

"_Yes, yes, yes_ Christine _feel_ me, touch me." He rasped horribly. "Ah, I frighten you, do I?... I dare say!... Perhaps you think that I have another mask, eh, and that this… this... my head is a mask? Well," he roared, "tear it off as you wished to do with the other! Come! Come along! I insist! Your hands! Your hands! _Give me your hands_!"

He began to dig her fingers into his face, scratching his flesh with her nails. Her eyes started rolling to the back of her head, "No!" He madly yelled and gave her one firm shake so that she might not faint, "you will not escape this! I could not, why should I give you such a luxury!"

He threw her to the floor then and started pacing as Christine sobbed.

"Know that I am built up of death from head to foot and that it is a corpse that loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you! Look, I am not laughing now, I am crying, crying for you Christine, who has seen me without my mask and therefore can never leave me! Now that you know my hideousness, you would run away for good. Why did you want to see me? Oh, mad Christine, who wanted to see me!... When my own father never saw me and when my mother, so as not to see me, made me a present of my first mask!"

She had to get away. As Erik rambled incoherently, growling and stiffly pacing she turned and tried to crawl away.

"Where do you think you are going my dear?" She heard him sneer as she tried to edge away before his hands clenched around the back of her dress and he tugged her backwards and into his arms.

"Let me go! I do not wish to be near you! Let go, let go!" She kicked and screamed, her heart would burst from her chest. In her terror she scratched at his hands, he barely noticed.

"That is not what you told Erik nights ago Christine," he growled into her ear, her skin tingled and she feared her reaction would be less then appropriate as his lips brushed at her ear when he spoke, his hands clenched around her waist, "Christine wanted to kiss Erik. Look at Erik when he talks to you!" He whirled her around to his face, she whimpered, "Aren't I a handsome man!" His eyes widened strangely and he grinned at her, "does my beauty not rival Raoul de Chagny's! Is Erik not the man of Christine's fantasies still?!" He caught her blush and the grin became a firm line, "and _now_ you become a lady? Did you not throw yourself at Erik like a bitch in heat nights ago Christine! Tempting him! Mocking him with what he can never have? Mocking him with lust and ideas of love and kisses? Do you not want me anymore? Shall I strip you here and take you like you wished?"

She shook her head and struggled against his chest, she could feel him growing more incensed, his words were making her frightened… he wouldn't surely he wouldn't! "Ange, ange please-

Something seemed to click, some old flicker of the calm man she had adored. He lowered his voice, "Ange, yes, yes Christine _your_ ange," he said softly now, hugging her closely, she trembled against him, noticing how he pressed the marred side of his face to her cheeks, "say it again, tell me how good I am, tell me that I am not a murderer - that I am not immoral. Tell me, tell me, tell me."

"You are scaring me." She whimpered at him, "please-

He stiffened, "scaring you?" He threw her away. She fell to the floor again and watched him march to her; she clapped a hand over her ears before he could start whatever he wished to say. This infuriated him so much that Erik grabbed her wrist away from her head and crouched above her, her eyes were so horrified that it only stirred more rage. "_I AM SCARING YOU?_" He bellowed.

"Yes!" She screamed at the top of her lungs in terror as he squeezed at her wrists, forcing her hands open, "I am scared! Stop! Stop you're hurting me!"

"Erik is hurting Christine! Haha!" His laughter became demonic, tossing his head back and exposing his jugular to her before squeezing again, she screamed and he lowered his gaze back to her as he sneered, "it is _you_ who hurts _me_. Every time you leave the lair you hurt Erik, every time you mention the filthy boy, every time you look my way or try to kiss me you ridicule me. Your touch is the leading grievance, but I hurt you with my _face_, is that it?! This atrocity! I, this loathsome being, am not deserving of your love, is that it?"

"Erik," she sobbed, her big tears rolled down her face so hard that he blinked at them in shock, "my wrist, please let go, let go…"

"Let you go, let you go! You will not let _me_ go! So why should I?" He yelled, at last releasing her. She fell away from him, locked by his gaze. "Look at me! A beast to rival Satan, mhm!? Yes, yes and all yours Christine!" He held his arms out in a flourish, "Erik is your most perfect monster don't you think! Do you still want me?!"

"No!"

His body seized, and then he flew out her yet _again_, she found herself in his arms, "do you know how much _I_ want _you_?" He hissed down at her, her eyes bulged as his hands circled around her waist and he pressed her tightly to his tall shaking body, she bit back a strange sound in her throat, "a monster wants you, aren't you flattered?"

"Let me go!"

"Yes! I will!" He threw her roughly away. Then his knees cracked against the cement.

A small sound escaped him, like that of an injured calf as he slapped his hands over his face, hiding it from her.

She ignored the pain all over her body from being thrown around so much to stare at him. _He's destroyed… Erik has completely lost his identity and he hates me for it…" _she thought with dry sobs as she looked at him, hunched with shaking shoulders.

He finally spoke, "go now. _Leave_ me. Leave your poor, evil Erik."

She watched him for a moment as his face changed from sorrow to rage to a mix between the two behind his hands, she could still gather his expression.

"Why did you want to see me Christine?" He moaned into his palms, "I tried to shield you but you would not listen…" His hands started sliding down his face, his eyes burned like white fire. Christine's blue gaze widened and she moved backwards away from him as he pounded his fists to the wood once and stared her down from where he kneeled, "I do not want to see you! _You've_ been my ultimate demise! False hope and laughter… I should have known better… _Love_? _Ange_? _A kiss_?" He sneered, "You've mocked me for the last time."

She swallowed, unsure of what to say to him, "Ange-

"GET OUT NOW BEFORE I HURT YOU!" He thundered like a great black devil with yellow coals for eyes, and pointed towards the exit doors of the Opera House.

Christine jumped off the stage, falling on her face. She didn't care, she pushed herself to her hands and knees and ran viciously, she could hear him standing, yelling at her from the stage.

"Why Christine? My face... my horrible face... my face…" He whispered to himself before yelling again, "leave! Leave and never return! YOUR ANGEL IS _GONE_!" He thundered.

She ran out of the opera house and into the blistering cold. There was complete silence in the streets; it was so late after all. She quickly dashed through the streets of Paris with no idea of where she was going. And no care for what happened to her at all.

She swore she could hear Erik weeping with her.

**…**

This wine tasted like hell in a glass. It was horrible, but that didn't matter, his focus was to relax. And so he gulped it down like a man and gritted his teeth against the flavor. He ignored Jonathan who lay back against the couch with a dazed gaze and a sloppy grin on his face.

It was a cold night out. Usually he'd find himself at the bar entertaining the prospect of making even half as much money as the owner, but tonight was a night for silence. A night for peace and cold and fire and quiet.

Naturally, it was when he considered the peace of the moment that something shattered it. Like always.

It was a noise from outside. He stood sharply, not knowing what it could have been and made his way to the front door. It sounded like crying, he didn't know why anyone would be out in this coldness and could only assume it to be a child. But the more he listened the more it sounded like a woman, not a child.

He pulled the door open curiously and peered out into the dark alley. He looked to the right first, not trusting the fact that the crying was obviously coming from his left. What if it were an enemy trying to trick him so that he had just enough time to hack his head off? But as he looked he saw nothing but the empty alleyway that led out to the streets of Paris, then when he looked to his right he spotted her.

It was a long haired woman. That was all he could tell in the darkness. She was gasping, clutching the wall desperately and making her way forward.

"Madam?" He called warily; he stepped out, shivering and making his way closer to her as she had her back to him. "Excuse me madam are you alright?" She seemed to have trouble dragging air into her body.

"I…" she squeaked out before stopping to breathe in.

"It is blistering cold out you should not be in these conditions," he said to her, walking alongside her now and then stopping when she could go no further, he tried to peer at her face and caught blue eyes before she closed her eyes and turned her face to the darkness, "do you have anyone I can contact to take you home?"

"I have no residence anymore," she sobbed. His eyes widened and he looked around warily.

"Come, I must bring you into the warmth or the cold will kill you and I would rather not have people thinking I was involved in your death." Gently, and without asking for permission as he felt she probably couldn't get another word out anyway, he wrapped an arm around her tiny waist and another behind her knees.

"He hates me," she wept, her head falling to his shoulder almost drunkenly.

_Certainly she is talking about her husband_… "Come now dear one, I am sure your husband does not hate you," _but how cruel it is of him to throw you to the street in this weather… I wonder what you did… _he mused quietly as he walked with her towards his door. "What is your name?"

"Christine," she said in a cute squeak, he smirked.

"Any last name, Miss Christine?"

"Daae," she croaked. He stiffened.

"The daughter of Gustave Daae?"

"My papa is dead…" her voice drifted and her head lolled backwards.

He frowned, "Miss Daae?" He asked, frowning in the dark and trying to see if her eyes were open or closed. She did not respond, "Are you awake?"

Again no response, he assumed she had lost consciousness and simply brought her inside, moving past his dazed friend and up towards his bedroom where he lay the woman down and looked at her face fully.

"My god," he murmured… "you truly are more beautiful than the rumors described," yes, she was… he had never laid eyes on her. He had only heard of her talent on the streets, how her beauty rivaled the average French woman, how her voice was the best thing in all of Paris, of how modest she was, of how sweet and kind.

And here she was.

He released a breath, examining her. Her face was delicate, almost porcelain in complexion. She had beautifully full and rosy lips, currently parted in her unconscious state. She was dainty, petite in stature and long haired. Her nose was delicate looking and red as a tomato.

He had always dreamed to see her perform, she was heavenly sounding from what the people of Paris described, and now here she was.

He looked to what she was wearing and frowned. She had a dress on; it was slightly ripped at the hem and torn a bit at the sleeve. He also noticed a ring on her hand. Was she married? Certainly not, the rumors had swirled around Paris that she was eligible for marriage. It was one of the reasons why so many men went to see her perform unaccompanied, they wished to have a chance to see her after the show and win her favor. But alas, anytime they tried she always seemed to be missing.

Men had even tried to find her home address and found that it was to no avail. Then the rumors began that Raoul de Chagny was after her. Men always saw him stalking around backstage muttering about the whereabouts of Christine, and slowly it had gotten back to his then future wife, Carlotta.

But now the vincomte was throwing off his wedding. It was a grand spectacle and most believed it to be because of his infatuation with Miss Daae.

He quickly draped a bed sheet around her and left the room in a flurry.

"Jonathan!" He yelled as he reached the bottom of the step, Jonathan stirred mildly, "you will not believe who I've brought here just now." Jonathan rolled his eyes in his shouting friend's direction with disinterest, "Christine Daae."

The younger man on the couch let his eyes widen and bulge… "No. What? Are you under the influence?"

"No!" He ran a hand through his balding head, "she was stumbling around the streets, I asked her who she was and she told me she was Christine Daae, she looks just as they had described her. She seemed to have gotten into some sort of trouble by the looks of it. She was hysterical, sobbing, gasping for air-

"Let me see her!" Jonathan came to his feet; his shaggy blonde hair fell over his face and his sore red eyes. He stumbled behind the other man, excited and disbelieving. Christine Daae? _Here_?

When they reached the bedroom at the top of the stairs they quietly pushed the door open and Jonathan stepped into the room. His eyes narrowed in on the petite form on the bed. She was there, beautiful and angelic, broken looking.

The other man grinned and clapped a hand against the other's back, "we're going to be rich, Jonathan."

* * *

***Cowers from the screaming readers***

**What did you all think? Did I do a good job? I am very nervous about this chapter, so please review. I am very curious to hear what you think!**

**I grabbed some quotes from the original novel feeling that it is only the original novel that does Erik's wrath justice.**

**Questions:**

**1. What did you think of Erik's wrath? Did you sympathize with his reaction even slightly? **

**2. What do you think is going on with these guys?!**

**3. What do you think of the things that Erik told Christine? Did he make any points that you agree with? **

**4. Do you think it was Erik's face that Christine was afraid of? **

**Lastly, did you enjoy it? Did I do a good job? I hope so... **

**REVIEW for a fast update angels!**


	21. I Want You so Desperately

**Chapter XXI**

As he descended down the tunnel he couldn't help but wonder why it was so silent. Certainly it was always very quiet, but Nadir knew when the silence was right versus when it was simply out of the ordinary. And this silence was out of the ordinary.

"Erik?" He called as he entered the lair. All around him there was darkness, the candles that were usually lit were out. He couldn't see a thing. "Erik are you there?"

Nadir moved deeper into the darkness, squinting in an effort to see.

His foot collided with a grove in the floor and he pitched forward, spilling harshly onto the cold ground and cursing under his breath. Where in the world was Christine? Where was Erik? Erik never left, and it was morning! He had to be here somewhere.

Then, out of darkness a small flame. Nadir gasped at it as it appeared feet in front of him, amber eyes blinked at him, as if lost.

"Erik! My goodness why is it so dark in here, light a candle. I almost split my head upon the ground!" Nadir stood weakly and rubbed his knee, it was going to bruise. Erik hadn't moved from where he stood, and now the mask on his face had made itself visible.

"What are you doing here Daroga?" His voice was cold, monotone, very lifeless.

"I have come to visit Christine as I always do Erik, what else?" Nadir sighed and moved forward towards the masked man, "light a lantern Erik, this is putting a strain on my eyes and I'd rather not have a conversation in the dark."

The masked figure moved swiftly and gracefully through the dark, as he went he would stop, knowing exactly where everything was and lighting the candles on his way. Before Nadir knew it he was standing in the warm glow of the many candles Erik and Christine had. He sighed heavily and turned to face Erik, who snuffed out the candle using the tips of his thumb and index finger. He didn't flinch.

"Erik you look filthy," Nadir frowned, taking in the disheveled appearance of the usually impeccably dressed man. His cravat was wrinkled and hanging out of his shirt, and his dark hair was hanging all about his face in a loose mess, strands hung over his forehead and his eyes. And his _eyes_, his amber eyes , which were usually sure, and intimidating, seemed lost, as if he were in some sort of haze, "Have you been using again Erik?" Nadir whispered hoarsely, he hopd not. Erik had done so well to remove himself from the presence of drugs.

"No."

He believed him, "are you ill?"

"No."

"What is it then?"

Erik said nothing for a long moment, his eyes turned towards the kitchen, as if he swore he heard movement there and then his eyes returned to Nadir, "Christine…"

Now the Daroga froze. _What happened? did Erik…? No, I shouldn't think like that, I know his temper, but murdering Christine would never even cross his thoughts,_ "what happened?" Erik made no attempt to answer, he simply placed his hands behind his back, and let his eyes flicker towards the dining table as if he had caught movement there. "Erik! Answer me!"

"She saw me…" his voice became very quiet, "she _saw_, Daroga." Nadirs eyes widened, "yes, her eyes did that too. But it was in horror-

"Where is she Erik?" Nadir started forward, the taller man did not move even as Nadir Khan raised his voice, "what did you do?" He knew how Erik became when he was enraged. And Christine was nowhere to be seen, something was very wrong here.

"I lost my temper…" Erik's voice became thick, "I did not.. I didn't mean-

"What did you do? Tell me right now Erik? Did you hurt her?" Nadir's voice was edged with panic. He could imagine those long fingers wrapped around the young girl's dainty neck, squeezing with ease, he shook the thought, Erik wouldn't!

"Erik did not mean to hurt Christine," he whispered, moving past Nadir with a dazed look, "Erik was afraid of her, so very afraid, she looked and grew frightened, repulsed. Christine fled in horror of his face-

"Stop it!" Nadir hissed, whipping around to glare at the man who was approaching the steps towards his piano, "don't try to escape what you did by speaking as if you are not Erik. _You_ are Erik, you are not someone else!"

"But it _was_ someone else," he stated, taking a seat on the piano bench and touching the keys without pressing down, "I came to my senses only after her departure." He turned his head now to Nadir who looked as if he might collapse, "she never returned to me Nadir."

"What happened, Erik, explain before I choke you myself!"

"Joseph Buquet had crossed the line again," Erik's eyes darkened, a flash of the man Nadir knew so well, "he was going to harm my Christine. I was not going to stand by and let it happen. I came down upon him and began to choke him, but Christine… my sweet Christine," his voice drifted and returned softer, "she stopped me. And then I released him," he shook his head, gazing out towards the lake, "when I turned to her I did not realize that my mask had come off in our struggle."

"My goodness," Nadir whispered.

"She stared at me in repulsion, she was sitting there silently. Erik lost… _I_ lost myself. I swooped down upon her and began to shake her and yell. By the end of it I ordered her to leave my Opera House and she did. She left… I woke this morning hardly recollecting what happened, but when I went to her bedroom I realized she had not returned in the night." His eyes turned to Nadir now, wide and fervent, "we must find her Nadir, she may look upon me with disgust but I must have her back, she can mock me I do not care!" His eyes grew wild, "I'll do anything Nadir, return her to me. We must find her what if something happens to her? What if she is hurt? We must -

"How could you?" Nadir choked, "we_?_ _I_ must find her! You can only leave at night!" He shook his head, rubbing at his scalp, "what a mess Erik. All because of your damn fears! Do you have any idea of all the things that could have happened to her!"

"I have more of an idea than even you Daroga." Erik stood, his eyes darkening as at the thoughts that filled his head, "Christine must be found. I lost myself, she must know that."

"Oh, she _must_?" Nadir laughed a sarcastic laugh and backed away from Erik who looked almost afraid, _almost_, "She loves you more than you can ever know!"

"She does not love me," Erik shook his head stubbornly; "she hates me, I disgust her."

"Christine could never hate you! She is only hurt by you!" Nadir hissed angrily, "I will go now into the streets and ask if anyone has seen anyone that fits her description. I can only pray that she has not fallen not the hands of a madman because of you!"

The masked man stood there for a long moment, watching his friend's retreating form. It was only when Nadir Khan had left, and the sound of his footsteps disappeared that he let himself crumple to his knees. There was a horrible pain at his chest ever since she had gone. He clutched at it and breathed deeply, struggling for breath and eventually collapsing onto his back.

Why was his breath so short? The masked man released a sound from the back of his throat, a choked noise. Things were going dark around the edges, was he dying? _Yes… yes this must have been death. Death without his _life_ to sing for him. _

He clapped his hands over his face in much of the same manner that he had before Christine. He allowed his chest to quake with repressed cries but did not give himself the liberty of release, rolling onto his side and struggling to breathe he struggled to compose himself. _My Christine, my Christine, lost and gone, lost and gone…_

But he was not dying; he realized regretfully, he was simply losing consciousness for a little while… _yes, fainting if only just to escape the nightmare of my reality._

**…**

_My God, where am I? _

The room around her was made entirely out of wood from ceiling to floor. There was no window, and try as she might she could not really remember how exactly she had gotten here. The only thing she could remember was Erik's ferocity and stumbling blindly through the streets and the cold.

Christine stood from the bed in a panic and instantly fled towards the door. She pulled it open loudly, not caring for discretion and started down the steps that were dangerously close to the entrance to the room she'd just left.

The closer she came to the landing the more pronounced two voices became, both were male, and while she could not make out their words she knew they were trying to be quiet. They were speaking in hushed tones. Her heart sped as her bare feet touched the warm wooden floorboards.

She realized she had landed in what seemed to be a small living room. It was simple and rather comfortable looking. There was a fire placing raging, and there were two chairs before it angled towards each other with a single round surface between it to place drinks.

She moved towards the speaking voices and nervously entered the room. Instantly the two males stiffened, and looked to her.

The first one she noticed was a stocky blonde male with pretty blue eyes. Blonde wispy hair surrounded his mouth and stuck out from his chin. The hair on his head was messy and dirty looking but it suited the shape of his long face and masculine physique. And leaning against a counter there was a man with round shoulders and an even rounder stomach, this man was much more intimidating. While he was not strangely tall his body made up for his height with size. He was massive, and balding. His eyes were as dark as her own and his lips stretched into a kind smile.

"Good evening gentlemen," she whispered quietly, surprised that her voice was not hoarse, the blonde blinked at her, "my name is Christine Daae."

"Christine Daae, yes, yes we know," the blonde perked up, standing to attention and walking over to her. He was dressed rather casually with a white shirt and dark pants and dress shoes. He stopped before her and took her hand, she stiffened and he pressed his lips to her knuckles before pulling up, "it is an honor to meet you."

"An honor?" She asked, confused.

"Yes, of course. You are _The_ Christine Daae…" He laughed as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. She realized rather quickly and with some longing that her life had been lived in such seclusion that she had never realized that while she performed her fame had grown, "my name is Jonathan."

"And I am Nathaniel," the bigger man stepped forward, dressed in much of the same manner as the shorter but more muscular man before Christine, the only difference was that he wore horse riding boots. She had always wanted a pair, she mused while looking up at him while he stopped before her, towering at least three feet taller, he took her hands and kissed her knuckles, "I found you stumbling drunkenly around the street last night Miss Daae."

She blushed, "I was not under the influence of wine last night sir, I …" how would she explain it?

"You kept speaking of being kicked out," Jonathan told her, still not moving away, "you were screaming in your sleep quite often about that."

"I do not remember that," she stated and looked away with embarrassment, "where exactly am I gentlemen? if you do not mind me asking, I live near the Paris Opera House and must get home." But she wasn't going to go _home_, she was going to find Nadir.

"You are about thirty minutes from there, Miss Daae," Nathaniel spoke and moved towards the small round table in the kitchen, he pulled out a chair and signaled to it, she moved forward, thanked him and sat, looking around nervously, "Miss Daae do you have anywhere to be?"

"Yes," she lied smoothly, "I must visit my dear friend…"

The man raised a brow now and looked to the blonde who stared at her as if stupefied, "well, when must you leave?"

"As soon as possible." She bit her lip, hoping they couldn't see through her lie.

"Well you can go nowhere in your state of dress," Nathaniel perked up, "I will find you something suitable and then you may go-

"Are you telling me I am not allowed to leave?" Her eyes flamed at him.

Jonathan laughed, "certainly you may go if you wish Miss Daae but you're hardly in appropriate clothing. What will the people of Paris say when they still Miss Daae walking around in a ripped gown?"

She nodded, agreeing. Everyone would recognize her, "I will stay then."

"Good," Nathaniel grinned and cast his eyes upon Jonathan who seemed relieved, "Jonathan would you please go take care of what we spoke of?"

"Certainly," Jonathan smiled and nodded towards Christine, a silent farewell. She did the same and then was left in the presence of Nathaniel.

"He is a dear friend of mine," Nathaniel explained, "We've always wanted to hear you sing. Imagine our shock when last night you stumbled into my arms," he laughed boisterously; "you must sing us a song or two."

"Most certainly, any you wish," she smiled, inside she felt like bricks were dropping on her stomach, how would she do? She suspected that she'd be fine; she did not need to have much direction all the time. But there was something nerve wracking about singing in front of two men instead of an entire crowd.

"Lovely, how'd about tonight?"

"Tonight?" She squeaked, her eyes widening, "Can we not acquire some means of dressing me appropriately sooner than that? I will be here all day?"

"I'm afraid so," he regretted quietly, "I simply do not have all the money to buy you something suitable, but do not fret by tonight I will have everything I need and then you are free to leave this very night if you so wish."

Christine resisted the urge to protest. That would be very rude, it would seem as if though she were a diva who could not stay in a place that was anything less then lavish, so she smiled simply and nodded. _I will sing the song… then I will wait for morning. I will write them a note perhaps, thanking them, but then I must find Nadir._

**…**

"I do not care for what you think!" Raoul scowled at his mother.

Madame de Chagny had aged to be a fairly good looking woman, even in her old age. She was still regal in appearance with her long blonde hair and her long intricate gowns. Her age was hard to tell, she had remained beautiful and made sure to care for herself. Raoul suspected that it was out of fear that his father might see another woman. Raoul was certain that despite her attempts to keep his father in her bed that she was aware of the fact that he was adulterous. .

Now she was standing there, glaring at his with judgmental, ferocious blue eyes. That stare had once frightened Raoul into silence, now it made him louder until he could hardly catch his breath, "I am not marrying that vile woman!"

"Then who is it that you wish to marry?" Madame de Chagny asked. Her face turning into a mask of disgust, "Christine Daae?"

"Yes! Finally mother you say something that is true, I want to marry Christine Daae, and there is n question about it."

She rolled her eyes and stepped further into her sons room, "you do realize how far below you she is. The woman has rejected you far too many times-

"That is because she has had her mind filled with lies about me. She thinks that I am like the rest of this damnable family," he raged, "she thinks that I am nothing but a brat."

"You _are_," the blonde woman scolded, "at least the Daae girl has seen something that she and I can agree on! You're a little brat who gets angry when he cannot have his way. Well, let me inform you that we cannot all live the lives we wanted!"

"You do not have to tell _me_ that!" Raoul sneered, moving from the lavish fireplace to sit on a chair, "Christine will be mine."

"You foolish boy," Madame de Chagny snapped, coming to him and grabbing his chin between her fingers like if he were still a child, "she does not want you. Stop this arrogance and go to Carlotta. That is a woman that wants to bear you children, she is wide of hips, she will give you many sons and daughters. _She_ wants you."

Raoul blinked away tears at the thought of losing Christine, he felt like a boy before his mother again, trying ot fight a losing cause, "Christine is passionate!" He yelled adamantly.

Her eyes narrowed, "that's exactly the problem you foolish man!" Her voice darkned, "Carlotta will give you want you need, sons and daughters! Christine will not let go of the music, she is a wild girl! I saw it the moment she first stepped into this house. She will not let go of the things she loves for you!"

He stiffened, thinking of her guardian, of her music.

"You will dim her fire, and she will extinguish all of yours faster than you can say 'I do'." Jerking her hands away from him she stood to her full height.

Her son was beautiful, her son was caring, sweet, mild mannered… but when it came to that Christine Daae he became a living model of his damn father in his youth. He had the same blonde hair, the same hazel eyes, he same posture even as he sat on his adorned chair with his legs folded and his hands clenched on the arm rests, her eyes softened, "you sweet fool, why is it that all men in this family chase after what they cannot have?"

"I can have her! I _will_ have her!" He yelled angrily.

Her palm came down on his face sharply, the sting made her shake her hand out a bit as she spoke, he had gotten used to this from her, his eyes no longer blazed at her slap if not her words, "you will never speak that way again in _my_ presence. Are you a baseborn fool? Or simply disgusting? I did not raise you to speak as if women themselves do not have a choice in the matter." She shook her head down at him with disappointment and anger, "I did not have a choice in marrying your father, and that is what angers _me_ the most. That you will not leave her alone! She does not want you Raoul, so leave the girl in peace!" Raoul stared up at her seriously, observing the tears brimming in her once youthful blue eyes, "you men are all the same, aren't you?" She twisted her mouth in disgust, "you think that it's all about what _you_ want, what _you_ need, what _you_ forget is that there is another life involved."

She turned from her son and marched towards the door, leaving him to rub his reddened cheek, she grabbed the golden doorknob and clenched her teeth, "I thought you were different from your brother and father."

And with that she left him in silence.

A few hours later while the sun was going down Raoul found himself marching downstairs to see who it was that had come to visit. He had not caught sight of his mother anywhere, or his father. His brother was always away either on business or hunting down women. Most household duties fell to him now.

When he came down the steps he was surprised to see Nadir Khan standing in his home, the man had not been here sine that oh so fateful day. Raoul couldn't say that the man looked well, he looked distressed and as if he were about to have a sort of attack.

"Mr. Khan!" Raoul smiled, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Nadir Khan smiled waveringly and fingered his hat nervously, his eyes roamed everywhere but Raoul, "know that I come here against the wishes of Christine's guardian. If he knew that I was here he would certainly hurt us both."

The hazel eyed vincomte frowned, "speak clear and true, what is happening?"

"Christine," Nadir choked out, his eyes becoming pink, "she has disappeared. Monseiur de Chagny know that I would not come to you if it were not an emergency but I have asked for her all over here and it is as if she never existed. I must find her-

"How can she be missing!" Raoul cried out.

"So you have not seen her then?"

"No, I have not! Dear God, when did she disappear?"

"Last night, she left the Opera House and never returned." Nadir Khan trembled, "I fear for not just her life but that of her guardian. Without each other they will both die, I promise you that. Christine is the sweetest and innocent of women, and her guardian is the darkest and most in love of men-

"Do not romanticize that creature to me," Raoul with impatience, "that man is horrible."

"Horrible, yes, but in love nonetheless. I entered their home today to find him in a shape I have not seen in a very long time. If he does not find her I fear a great disaster will occur, for both of them," Nadir's eyes searched the hazel one's for some sort of compassion, "they need one another to live."

"You are still standing here talking of her sick love for that madman? Have you lost your mind Khan?" Raoul's stare became hateful, "he-

"He never wished to hurt her."

Raoul stiffened now. _What did he just say?_ "What are you talking about?" Nadir Khan's eyes widened, "what did he do?"

Nadir trembled, he had said too much, "he grew angry at Christine, shook her and yelled at her to leave the Opera House." Raoul's hands tightened into fists, "don't make the mistake to think this is a normal occurrence," Nadir's eyes darkened, "while he is a frightening creature there is nothing but unwavering love between the two of them. And I would not see either succumb to depression or unhappiness because of matters that do not concern _us_ directly. Christine loves him-" Raoul winced, "and she wants to be with him. I _know_ it…"

"She will not need to depend on him once I find her." Raoul turned towards the stairs, muttering and struggling to control himself, "know this Khan," he turned at the top of the stairs, the Persian was almost in tears, "if I find her first I will make sure to take her away from _you_ and the demonic man. You two are nothing but diseases in her life, and I plan to cure her of the ill you've both caused!"

Nadir watched the young vincomte turn and disappear from sight. The Persian ran a hand over his face with fear, he couldn't keep the trembling out of his fingers.

_Now it is a race, _he realized and quickly turned out the door. He'd return to Erik and inform him of the developments.

Neither would lose Christine to the fancies of Raoul de Chagny.

* * *

**THE HUNT IS ON! :o **

**So what did you think? Erik is falling apart, Christine plans to see Nadir, Nadir is trying to keep cool while Erik and Raoul lose it, and Madam de Chagny is... making a bit of sense? **

**Things are getting stranger and stranger.**

**So review!**

**Questions:**

**1. What did you think of Madam de Chagny's words to Raoul, what do you think made her say that? Is she right? is she wrong?**

**2. What do you think of Erik's fear of Christine, how would you explain that? **

**3. Does Nadir have a point in saying that Erik and Christine will lose themselves without each other? **

**Lastly, 4. Is Raoul winning points in your favor towards him finding Christine first? **

**(Not for me, but to each their own!) **

**REVIEW PLEASE? :) **


	22. The First Time

**Chapter XXII**

"Christine, are you prepared?" Jonathan called from the door.

Christine turned with a smile and nodded, "yes, I think I am."

"You look lovely," Jonathan grinned. She blushed. He had been able to acquire a gown for her after all, at first she wanted to take the opportunity to leave but realized how rude it would have been, instead Christine vowed to sing the two songs and then leave in the morning.

The gown itself was inexpensive; she knew that because she had asked. It was plain and light blue in color, almost pale. She had pinned her hair up into a neat bun at the base of her skull and tried to make herself look presentable. _He_ had always taught her that she must capture the audience not just with her voice but with her presence.

"Thank you sir," she dipped her head modestly and smiled softly.

"I hope you do not mind but we have a bit of company."

"Company?" she became confused, "whom?"

"A few friends of mine, I hope this is alright?"

"Of course monsieur, this is your home, not mine."

"Wonderful," he smiled, "come, everyone is waiting." Christine took a deep breath and nodded, Jonathan held out his hand, at first she was confused, was she supposed to take it? Shrugging mentally Christine took his warm hand and allowed him to escort her down the stairs.

**…**

She looked beautiful; Jonathan could hardly take his eyes off of her. As they approached the bottom step he felt her tension grow as she took in the fifteen people standing in his living room, but she said nothing of it.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, taking in her confused expression.

"I am perfect," Christine smiled, but it was shaky. He ignored it and looked to all the men who had spotted her as they landed onto the first floor. Their eyes drank her in hungrily, Christine shivered a little on his arm.

"Good evening gentlemen," Jonathan interrupted their staring, all at once they looked to him, and then all at once back to her, "this is Christine Daae."

"Good evening gentlemen," Christine spoke timidly, they grinned at her.

"Come Christine, stand here," Jonathan towed her to the front of the fireplace, the men parted like the red sea, all crowded in the too small living room.

When they reached the fireplace Christine turned and stood there, staring at Jonathan as if for guidance. She found none and adverted her gaze to all the men who took seats on all the chairs that had been set out for them. She hadn't even taken all these chairs in at first because of how many people there were in this small room, but luckily they had left her enough space.

But then she realized something else, _why in the world are they all _men_? _

"Is there anything in specific that you would like to hear?" Christine asked quietly, she was almost certain they had not heard her.

"Anything you want Christine," Jonathan smiled at her from his chair in the front 'row'.

And just like that she began singing.

"Jonathan along with everyone else that was in the room found himself mesmerized. He did not recognize the song, and he was certain no one else recognized it, but it was her voice that they listened to, not necessarily the words.

"Dear God," someone whispered from beside Jonathan, he did not remove his eyes from Christine, "Jonathan she is _angelic_."

"Yes.." he whispered as her voice soared, there was however a disturbing emptiness is her gaze, as if she were in another world. He didn't like it, she looked almost… possessed by the music, "she is…"

"How much longer will she be under your influence?" The man asked, Jonathan looked at him with a blank stare. The man's eyes widened, "you haven't started?"

"I haven't had the time," Jonathan murmured and looked to Christine who had not yet stopped singing; he wanted this man to close his mouth, "but soon. Now be silent, I want to hear her."

…

"I found nothing, Erik," Nadir groaned with exhausted, plopping onto the seat of the organ and staring at the masked man who glared back at him.

"I will have her back Nadir."

"I would have you have her back as well, I spoke with Raoul de Chagny," Nadir averted his gaze, "I wanted to see if he had seen Christine. He told me that he had not and then made it clear that he planned to find her and take her from you and I both."

Erik let out a sharp laugh, Nadir blinked, "that will _never_ happen Daroga."

"Erik-

"I would see his home burned to the ground before I let him kill her spirit with flattering words and riches. Does he think Christine can be bought with materials?" He was growing more enraged as he spoke, he paced before the piano with an intense stare, "I will roam the streets tonight and see what information I can gather. The whores of Paris always know things."

"I never thought to ask any Woman of the Night…" Nadir muttered. Erik stared at him with disbelief at the word he had just used for the common prostitutes of Paris, "I am not as vulgar as you Erik!" Nadir defended himself.

The masked man rolled his eyes away from the prudish Persian, "I will ask them tonight, and if they do not information I will ask them to keep their eyes open, whichever can bring me news of Christine will have a handsome reward. That ought to be enough incentive."

Nadir nodded, "it is not a bad plan."

"Of course it is not a bad plan!" Erik said harshly, "and then tomorrow, and the night after that, and the night after that I will search every home of Paris if I have to." His eyes slid intensely towards a spot beside the piano, and then back to Nadir who was staring at him with confusion.

"Erik have you been hallucinating?" he asked carefully.

"Why would you ask something so stupid?"

"Because for the past day you have been letting your eyes roam as if you are seeing things that are not there."

"Do not be silly Daroga. Now, you may stay here or you may go home, but I am going to go search for Christine. Rest, you will look tomorrow first thing in the morning."

Nadir nodded and watched as Erik strode out with purposeful steps, "he stands a shadow of the man he was…. At least his determination has returned him back to the real world… only if just for a little while..."

**…**

By the time Christine had finished singing her two songs all the men were practically drooling. She didn't like the way they stared at her. Certainly she had had this awed stare from men in the opera house but she never felt as if though they could do her harm, Erik was always there to save her, but not now.

The reminder made her heart clench, _I want Erik back._

"_Brava_!" They hollered wildly as Jonathan took her by the arm and gently towed her back up to her room. She remained silent the entire time, allowing Jonathan to finish his praise of her, "_brava_!" they still called from downstairs.

"That was unbelievable," he gasped at her closing the door behind them, she smiled at him and sat on the bed, "my goodness Christine you sing like an angel," she winced at the word, "you are absolutely incredible. My God!"

"Thank you Jonathan, you are very kind to say so." She rubbed her eyes in a very tired fashion. "Jonathan what time is it?"

He smirked, "it is eleven o clock Christine," then continued his rant, "I had heard the rumors of your talent but I never imagined that it was anything like that… no, I could never have imagined something so perfect!"

"You are very kind to say so," she smiled and winced at the pain in her joints. She was not used to this ratty mattress, and her sleep was not right, _Erik had always ensured that I had the proper amount of sleep, _she realized with some sort, she blinked tears back, "I am very tired, forgive me but I would like to sleep…. It is too bad that I have not been able to sleep."

"There is nothing to forgive darling, yes you may rest, but first… I would like to give you something to help you," he smiled softly. She stared at him with confusion, a gift perhaps? She hoped not, she would be forced to accept it out of courtesy.

"What is it Jonathan?" she asked as he walked over to a closet that she had never dared to go into on the right side of the room. He pulled it open and then reached for a box, she raised a brow as he pulled it out and then sat at her side. Automatically she stiffened; it was very rare that she found herself in such close proximity to another person, especially a man that was not… _Him_.

"This may be a bit painful, but you do wish to sleep correct?"

Christine nodded, "yes. "

He nodded and set the box on his lap and pulled the top open. Her eyes widened at the contents.

She saw a syringe, a large vial, and an elastic band, what was this?

"Come now, give me your arm." He instructed, pulling out the contents feverishly.

"What is that?" She asked with a tremble, noticing how long the syringe was.

"This will help you sleep, I promise." He tossed her a gorgeous smile, she blushed, "give me your arm."

"Will it hurt?" She asked with caution, noticing how he filled the syringe with whatever content was in the vial.

"It will feel like a pinch, but afterwards I promise you it will disappear."

Christine bit her lip with hesitation and then nodded.

He took her arm carefully and then placed the syringe between his lips. She watched him as he took the elastic band and tied it around her arm tightly. It hurt a bit but she ignored it. Next he placed the box to the floor and grabbed the syringe from his mouth. Her heartbeat picked up.

"I don't think I want to do this.." she whispered.

"It will be fine Christine, close your eyes darling it will be over in just a moment."

"Wait- no I think that this is bad. I do not know what that is, what is that? Does it have a name?" Her voice was growing panicked and he was drawing the syringe closer, she stiffened. What if he plunged it into the wrong place while she was struggling, no that would not be good, but what if there were bad contents in the syringe?

"Sit still," he ordered her a bit sharply as she trembled. He looked up to her, noticing her very apprehensive stare, he felt a stab of pity for her, she was new, he shouldn't be so harsh, he was just as nervous the first time too, "do not worry Christine, trust me."

"Jonathan please let's just think about this first." Her eyes widened, her panic was evident.

"Christine this will help you," he argued back with a sharp look.

"Let's talk this thr-

He plunged the syringe into her skin before she could protest more. Christine gave a shriek of pain as he plunged the end of the syringe, efficiently pushing the foggy liquid into her bloodstream.

"No…" she whispered in shock as he kept sinking the end of the needle, ensuring that he had pushed every drop into her

It wasn't until about a full ten seconds later that she started feeling the effects of whatever he had pushed into her.

Her vision became a been blurred around the edges, and a sudden weightlessness fell over her. She swore that her limbs became clouds, and her head felt so light… but all the weight seemed to go to her eyelids… Warmth enveloped her and she wanted nothing more than to smile, it was irresistible. So she did.

There were hardly any words to describe the euphoria rushing through her veis. She tried hard to open her eyes but found that she couldn't locate them.

_What is happening to me? My arms… my legs…_

"Oh this feels…'mazing." She whispered and swayed where she sat.

Quickly Jonathan removed the needle and threw it into the waste bin as Christine's eyes began to close, "Jona… what is happening to… mhm I can't feel anything… I feel empty… where have my arms gone?"

"Shh, shh," he murmured gently, climbing onto the bed behind her and wrapping his arms under hers. Jonathan began pulling her towards the headboard with him. She was going limp now, and her breathing had become slower and heavy, he hoped he had not given her too much, "you're alright now Christine."

"I can't feel." She explained in a slurred voice, her eyes opened again as he settled her between his legs, holding the back of her head firmly to his chest and pulling the bun out of her hair. It fell in soft waves all around her face, as if it were a pillow, "this feels…"

"Incredible," he finished for her, stroking her luscious curls and eyeballing the vial… he wanted some now, but he was responsible for Christine, he had to ensure that she was alright through this, "do you like it Christine? The weightlessness?"

"Mhm hmm, oh yes, I … very- like it… much." Her words were jumbled, hardly making any sense, he chuckled against the top of her head, "I feel very sleepy Jonathan. And very happy here… with you… this… is perfect… but my eyes are closing." She pouted slightly, he laughed at how adorable she was, "I don't want to sleep."

"Some people react that way Christine, close your eyes."

"They are …" her voice slurred again and he removed himself from her and lay her back against the pillow. Her lids were half closed, her eyes flickered up and down as if she were having a seizure and her mouth was parted as if she were dead, "it's wond.."

"Shh, rest now, enjoy it," she heard him far off. _Why does he sound so far… are we in a tunnel of some sort? My legs. Where have they gone? And my torso? I feel perfectly weightless. But what has happened, what did he give me_? She didn't know. She couldn't care. She felt as if though she were sinking into the mattress. She gave a mewl of content. The weightlessness… the relief! She groaned, she felt herself sinking deeper.

"What time is it?" Christine found herself asking in what felt to be minutes later, her tongue felt like led.

"It is two in the morning," he smirked beside her, simply watching her was entertaining enough. For the past few hours she had simply stared at the ceiling absently, seeing with unseeing eyes.

"My God… time, time… time!" Was her only response. She could distinctly remember him telling her it was eleven o clock only a few minutes earlier.

"You are losing your sense of time Christine," he explained, "hours have passed since I first gave you a dose."

"God…" was her only response. Minutes later she spoke again, she found herself curious about this amazing feeling. This gut wrenching rapture, "What did you give me?" She asked, stretching her fingers compulsively to ensure they were still there. Everything was going numb.

Jonathan, who had stood from the bed stared at her from the doorway, Christine was drifting now, her breathing became slower, her eyes were completely closing.

"Morphine," he smirked and left her to her high.

* * *

...*Hides*

Review for a fast update...


	23. Bruise

**Chapter XXIII**

He sat on the bench without seeing.

He had been without her for a day now and felt as though he was falling apart. Nadir explained that it was from his lack of sleep, and the fact that he had not eaten, _but how is that fair? _The masked figure thought, stroking the keys without feeling, _shall I eat and sleep and rest while she is out there somewhere possibly – _

_No, no, no… _he stopped his line of thought, _Christine would not leave me, she cannot leave me!_

A sound came from Erik's right near the lake. He stood sharply and watched with a narrowed gaze.

Someone was there.

Stealthily blending into the dark Erik moved swiftly down the small steps and towards the bank of the lake, standing and watching the water for any sign… _would Christine try to swim across the lake again?_

But yet again there was nothing there.

He resisted giving a roar of anger and marched silently towards the piano.

_The day starts. The day ends, time crawls by. The moments creep and yet I cannot bear to sleep. At least, not until I hear you sing, my Christine, _the man dropped his face to the piano with exhaustion, _minutes pass, hours pass, a day has passed and still she does not walk in. _

Last night he had found enough whores to make even the filthiest man sick. He had carefully stuck to the shadows and beckoned them quietly. Whenever they approached, haughty and eager to please he stopped them and asked them if they had seen a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes in the night. They had all replied no.

Then he told them that he would give them a handsome reward if they could find any trace leading to a young woman with blue eyes and brown hair, a singer to be exact. He described her dress for them, and then hesitantly told them that her name was Christine Daae.

And just like that all the whores were at the streets, hunting down the young woman.

He gave a sharp sigh before finally succumbing to his exhaustion, _my broken soul will not be alive and whole, until I hear you sing once more. Until you are back with me… How can I live without you? Be silent if you must punish me for my actions but return to me!_

**…**

When Christine woke in the afternoon of the next day she swore that she had dreamed last night. She could distantly recall Jonathan pushing something into her veins, and then falling, and falling, and falling.

Now she felt sick to her stomach. She struggled to stand and even fell back into the bed a couple of times in her dizziness.

_They've drugged me, _she spoke in her head as the room spun, she clutched at her stomach, wanting to vomit, _I must find Nadir. _

"So you've woken up!"

Christine looked to the right sharply and saw Nathaniel standing in the doorway. He was so so massive that his shoulders blocked out any point of exit from the doorway. It was not in the same way that Erik's shoulders were wide. Where Erik was lean this man was simply large. And he had a wide grin on his face. She felt rage boiling in her body, "stay away from me."

"Now Christine, why must you be so unkind to me," he smirked and started a slow walk forward. She shivered backwards and away from him, he took the message and stopped walking, "we gave you bliss last night. You enjoyed yourself."

"That is because I had no choice!" Her voice was growing hysterical, "you gave me _filth_."

"We gave you pleasure," he smiled, she looked away from him and down to her arm where she could see the bruise from where Jonathan had pushed the needle, "come, don't you wish to bathe? You were sweating profusely in the night. Screaming and thrashing and moaning at times as if something were on you."

"I do not want anything from you, or Jonathan," her voice was stronger than he expected it would have been, and her messy hair was pulled damply to her face, "I want to leave. That is all, now excuse me." She walked towards him and made an attempt to brush past his body.

Nathaniel grabbed her around the shoulders so tightly she yelped and suddenly found herself face down on the bed. The sharp movement made the room spin and she closed her eyes tightly and clutched at her stomach as the room spun

"You stupid girl!" He laughed, "did you really imagine that I would let you leave? My God what a naïve woman you are." He approached the curled up woman with a dark grin and smiled, "that feeling will pass. Soon you'll find that you need more of the morphine to reach the same high you had last night. We were all quite envious, many of us can hardly feel anything anymore."

She moaned and swallowed back. Her head pounded mercilessly, "I need a doctor," she whimpered.

"No, no, my darling," he chuckled, "you simply need rest. Come," he reached for her shoulder but she slapped his hand harshly away, he laughed.

"Do not put your hands anywhere on my person!" She shrieked madly, sitting up.

Nathaniel laughed at the small quaking of her body as it wrestled with pain and rage. Quickly Jonathan shoved her forcefully and grabbed her wrist easily, ignoring her struggles and holding them tightly beside her head.

"Remove your hands! Get off me! Get off! Please! Please!"

"Shut your mouth."

Nathaniel had climbed onto the bed, thankfully not on her, instead he settled beside her and had only his upper body above her to press her wrists down to the mattress.

"Nathaniel please my wrists!" She pleaded.

"Shut your mouth!" He yelled, "I gave you happiness last night! And now you proudly throw it back in my face. What? Is it that us poor folk are not good enough company for little Miss Daae?" He could see the fear taking over her form and he gripped her wrist more tightly, _She is lucky I am not settled on her, _he thought darkly, _for I might not be able to control myself with such a lovely body beneath me. _

"Nathaniel, please release me," she spoke more softly now. Her eyes were wide and pleading. He narrowed his gaze and removed his hand from her wrist. He moved from the bed and watched her as she huddled against the headboard and rubbed her wrist quietly.

"You must be more accepting of your new life," he informed her, "if not this is going to be a very hard start for you."

"What are you talking about," she croaked, "I only wish to go home-

"You have no home!" He reminded her. She pressed her hands to her face, hiding the tears before they fell, "this is your new home! You will sing for us and give us the money we need! You yourself had a luxurious home didn't you?" He sneered and moved closer to home, "you rich pompous women are all the same, pretty and selfish. You don't give a thought to others do you? You run around in your pretty dresses and tease the rest of us who will never have a taste of the things we so rightly deserve!"

"You deserve _nothing_!" She screamed at him, unable to control the outrage, removing her hands from her face and fisting them into the pillow she sat on, "I've worked hard for what I have! I am not lazy like yours-

Nathaniel leaped forward and his meaty hand crashed down on her face.

He landed a cracking slap to her right cheek. Her head snapped to the side before she fell to the other side of the bed with a hard cry and a thud.

_He's struck me! My God what type of man is this! Oh God! _She cried and clutched her cheek where she felt something wet and warm. She realized with terror it was blood as she lifted her face from the wooden floor. Jonathan was walking towards her and she looked up at him with a dazed stare.

She was shaking so hard and that she hardly keep her upper body from the floor.

Nathaniel observed her as she gave a hard cough, unable to sob or seemingly fully comprehend what happened. Christine's cheek was already puffy and red. He couldn't remove his eyes from the mark. She had deserved it!

"How… why-

"Shut your mouth before I strike you again, _woman_," he sneered angrily and reached down with a clawed hand. She gave an involuntary shriek and sob as he tied his fingers into her hair and twisted it, lifting her from the ground and tossing her onto the mattress where she collapsed in a heap of tears, "I'll hit you again the next time you dare to speak to me or anyone else that way! You're not so tough now, are ya' you little bitch?"

Christine responded with a hard cry and a choked cough.

He laughed and stepped out of the room.

**_…_**

"Have you found anything?" The masked figure asked the woman. She looked into the darkness with a squinted eye, trying to catch sight of who it was before her. She had not seen the man, she had only heard him.

"No, I have not. I did however come into contact with a certain Nadir Khan. He is also searching for Miss Christine Daae. If I find any news and cannot come into contact with you promptly I shall make certain to contact him instead, if this is alright with you Monsieur. You are a very hard man to track down. I imagine that whatever news I may carry would not reach you unless you reached _me_ first."

"Yes, do inform him."

"Raoul de Chagny has also made it a mission to find her it seems. My friends, the ladies who work with me," Erik resisted a roll of his eyes, _you are a fool if you think them ladies_, "they told me that he had been asking questions at the police station."

"And how would they know that?" Erik asked with irritation.

"Because my dear fiends are often in the police station," she grinned, almost proudly. He understood what she meant after a moment.

"Do not speak to that man of anything you might find out about Miss Christine Daae."

"I will make certain to contact either you or Nadir Khan only then."

"Yes, and if he inquires you feign ignorance on the subject."

"I understand, Monsieur."

"Goodnight." He bit back sharply.

She sighed and rolled her green eyes at the rude man before turning and strutting towards her next client, her red hair gleamed in the moonlight.

After the woman had walked away Erik started walking through alley ways. There was nothing he could do but wait. He had spent the entire night speaking with about thirty different prostitutes. He hoped one would return to him with answers.

As he walked he picked up on a small crunching sound. Thinking that he was imagining it yet again he ignored it.

But the further he walked the more he became aware of the sound. Erik turned swiftly, his lasso at his hand and ready to kill.

But there was no one there.

He sighed with irritation and rubbed the unmasked side of his face.

"I am going mad," he whispered.

But then he felt a tugging at his cloak. He cast his amber eyes downward and frowned with disgust.

A small kitten clawed up at him, it's eyes were green and it had a white stripe running down from its forehead to his nose, the rest of it was black matted fur, it meowed incessantly and Erik harshly pulled his cloak away from its tiny paws.

"This was expensive," he hissed at it. The animal reached for it again and Erik backed away, glaring at it, "stay away you damnable creature before I harm you." He turned his back to it and started walking. But he could hear it's paws on the cement, he _swore_ he could hear it.

He whirled about again and now the cat sat, staring up at him almost expectantly. He stooped low and grabbed it by the scruff of it's neck, knocking it up to his face and analyzing the small ball of warmth that shivered so horribly.

"You are annoying," he growled, it blinked at him slowly, in a bored fashion, "stay away from my cloak."

He set it back down and began walking away. But then stopped when he heard nothing.

He turned around and saw the kitten sitting where he had placed it. It blinked at him, small and cold, poor and withering.

_Damn you, damn you._

He walked back towards it with purposeful strides, it whipped it's tail playfully as he reached down and grabbed it again, holding it in his arms under the cloak, he settled quietly and purred at the warmth emanating from his body.

"Do not think me your master," he ordered it, "when I find Christine, and I _will_ find Christine, your job will be to give her the happiness when I cannot."

And with that he stole into the night.

**…**

That night Christine lay in the bed with a dazed look upon her face.

She wondered what Erik was doing., was he playing at his piano, or was he out looking for her? And what about Nadir? Was he out there too, hoping to find her?

She would be happy to see even Raoul at this point. Raoul who was always such a nuisance, and who always wanted to see her smile, Raoul who she had rejected so often, and who had only wanted to care for her.

But mostly, she wanted _Him_, and her bed, and _his_ arms around her. The thought that she would never again see the Ange made her choke on a cry.

_Does he miss me as well? Or is he thinking of me with hate… no, Erik is far too good for that. Erik is probably sad too. Oh Ange, do not cry for me, be happy and free, _she hoped.

The door pried open, she stiffened automatically and looked briefly to see whom it was. When she looked she saw Jonathan there with his unruly blonde hair and his blue eyes.

She hardly acknowledged him when he stepped through the door; she cast her eyes towards him once more and tried to remain calm. If she tried to run would they strike her again? She hoped not.

"My God Christine, what happened?" He asked upon catching sight of her face, and then he came towards her, his blue eyes wide with concern. He had expected to find her a little worn down, but certainly not with a _bruise_ on her cheek. The perfect flesh was purple and her tear tracks were plain and visible, shiny and recent.

Christine made no move to respond as he approached her carefully and kneeled to the floor before her. The young beauty closed her eyes and tried to think of another man before her, one that was tall, dressed in black, beautiful, with an unearthly voice.

She'd give anything even to have him scold her for not singing properly, she resisted a smile, he was always so strict. _Breathe from here girl! _He'd throw at her, and she'd jump and he'd continue, _No, no, no! _scolding her as if she were a kitten who had licked his hand or worse.

"How could he do this to you?" Jonathan murmured and hesitantly reached up to stroke the hair away from her face.

Christine's eyes opened in a fury, "do not touch me."

He pulled his hand back and shook his head sadly, "I am so sorry."

She closed her eyes and shook her head with terrible sadness, _I cannot believe all that has happened to me. How can this be real? This must be a violent nightmare, this cannot be real. This cannot be real. Please do not let this be real-_

And then very suddenly she felt Jonathan's fingertips trailing down her face, almost lovingly, and she let out a hard screech.

Her fist lashed out violently and she hit him sharply in the side of the face, knocking him backwards.

Quickly she was on her feet and sprinting down the stairs.

"Christine!" He roared behind her.

She could hear him coming after her. She struggled to keep her focus going down the narrow staircase. She just had to reach the door and then scream, all she had to do was _scream_, she had the lungs to be heard! She just needed to reach the door!

She tripped on the last stair and quickly caught her balance. The room swirled around her and her stomach did flips, she struggled and ignored it.

Christine then flew out into the living room and seized.

Nathaniel sat there with a woman between his legs. Christine swallowed thickly as his eyes settled on her and the woman, a prostitute, Christine imagined, turned her head from between Nathaniel's thighs and settled on her.

The woman had flaming red hair and strange green eyes. They narrowed on Christine who stared at her wide eyed and slightly embarrassed. _What was that woman doing between that man's legs?!_

"Damn you!" Jonathan angrily reached her and grabbed her by the hair. She shrieked and the woman jumped up from Nathaniel's legs with a wide stare, her breasts hung out from her shirt.

"GRAB HER!" Jonathan hurled at Nathaniel as the prostitute made a run for it. Christine angrily rotated and threw her fist into Jonathan's face. He stumbled back into the staircase. Her knuckles throbbed at the crack.

"No! Get away!" The woman with the red hair shrieked.

Christine spotted a glass lamp and without thinking she jumped for it, Jonathan stood and tried to stop her, but it was too late.

Christine hurled the lamp across the room with all her strength at Nathaniel's head.

The lamp crashed against his skull and shattered to the floor. Blood bubbled to the surface of his cheek and scalp, he yelled hoarsely and crumpled to his knees. His face was already coated in a layer of red.

The redheaded woman yelled with shock.

Jonathan grabbed Christine by the hair again and tore strands out in the process before giving her one hard tug up the stairs. The woman below jumped out of Nathaniel's bloody reach as he crawled towards her on the floor, desperate to stop her.

"Do not let her escape! She has seen too much!" Jonathan roared and pulled Christine up the narrow staircase while she kept her eyes on the woman, _she had to escape!_

"MY NAME IS _CHRISTINE DAAE!"_ Christine wailed as loudly as she could as the woman made another jump away from Nathaniel who was clumsily trying to pick his pants up and grab for her and stop the bleeding at his face. "CHRISTINE DAAE! CHRISTINE DAAE! CHRISTINE DAAE! _I AM CHRITINE DAAE_!" _I AM DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT – _she strangely recalled Erik yelling.

"SILENCE!" Jonathan bellowed as he pulled her up the last step and slammed the door closed. She fell to the floor. Below she heard the sound of clattering and screaming and running and cursing.

Jonathan jumped on her and pinned her down, sitting on her waist. Christine angrily slapped him sharply in the face and twisted beneath him, beating on his chest frantically. Her breathing had picked up to an unhealthy speed and she was feeling a horrible need to vomit.

Jonathan's hands fell onto her and wrapped around her neck and he started squeezing. His face twisted into a mask of pure vigor and fury. She had never seen something so _horrifying_, his pupils seemed to dilate and flash before her! It was a face of pure hatred and all directed at her!

_God, please, please, please let her have escaped. Please, please!_

Christine croaked as she fought for air, scratching at the top of his hard arms. Her throat bulged beneath his large hands and he shook her hard, causing her head to snap back against the wood beneath her.

As the edges of her world started going black, and Jonathan's snarling face started fading out she heard Nathaniel at the door, frantic.

"The whore got away!" He cried as Jonathan's released her in his rage.

Christine passed out with a smile on her face, and a sigh of relief.

_I am Don Juan Triumphant… _

* * *

**...Things are picking up. What did you think? Did that turn out at all how you expected? Are you excited? I sure hope so. And what's up with Erik and the cat? **

**Review for an update tomorrow perhaps :) **

**SEE YOU THEN :) **


	24. Floating, Falling

**Warning: I said I wasn't going to do this but I decided to be kind. This chapter will be tough, so you might want to skip a few parts, I will not put a warning before the scene and after because that just interrupts the narrative. **

**Chapter XIV**

The home was quiet; the only sound was that of the crackling fire. The sun was filtering in from the windows, lighting up the inside of the home warmly. Nadir Khan slept on his bed, exhausted from all his searching. He had not even changed into proper sleeping attire. There was simply too much weariness in his bones, for this reason he had slept into the late afternoon. All was peaceful and silent, until-

_Knock, knock!_

Nadir groaned and sat up knowing that it was probably a patient in need of a doctor. He simply had no energy for this today, but a duty was a duty. Quickly Nadir made his way over to stairs of his home as the knocking thundered on and on. For a moment he thought perhaps it was Erik who never learned how to be patient and courteous, but as he walked into the living room and the sun shined into his eyes he knew that it was not. Erik would not go out in the day.

He groaned and stumbled forward, the knocking continued.

He pulled the door open, trying his best to appear pleasant.

Before him stood a woman with flaming red hair, her eyes shined green, reddened only by the tears falling from her face.

"Madame," Nadir started, shocked at her state of dress. Men in the streets were glancing towards his home with curiosity at the woman with the disheveled hair and the ripped dress, "come in, come in!" He ushered her inside at once, shutting the door forcefully and turning to the woman.

She started speaking immediately, "forgive me for the urgent knocking," she sucked in a sharp breath, "do you recognize me?"

"Yes of course, I spoke to you of Christine Daae," he frowned, "do you have news?"

"Yes sir, I have very, bad, urgent news that demands your immediate attention."

His eyes fell, _was Christine found dead?_ "Well out with it," he urged and stepped forward, the woman trembled. Whether it was at the warmth of his home, or the plain fear in her eyes, he did not know.

"I went to a home last night, for a client," she blushed, "I do not know his name, but I remember very clearly his home. I went inside and all appeared normal sir, I swear it!" Her eyes widened, "I… started doing what it is that I do," her eyes darted away from him, "and upstairs I began to here a struggle. A very hard struggle sir, and suddenly a door open and down came a young woman of brown hair and blue eyes with a light blue gown."

Nadir's eyes widened.

"She saw me and in my fear I stood. A younger man with blonde hair came running down and made a grab at her, I knew then that I had to get out of the home-

"Yes, of course."

"He started yelling that I had 'seen too much'," the woman trembled more and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, "it seemed the young woman realized something and suddenly jumped forward and threw a lamp across the room, hitting the man I was with in the face. The blonde male grabbed her and she began screaming her _own_ name, sir." Her green eyes cast their way up at him, "she started screaming that her name is _Christine Daae_."

"Christine!" He gaped and suddenly started flying about the room, grabbing his hat, grabbing his coat, "you will take me to where it is that she was! I have no time to go to the Opera House I must find her right now!"

"Monsieur I cannot go back there!" The woman sobbed, "they will harm me!"

"You do not have to go anywhere, simply direct me and then you may be on your way."

"I am going to be killed by those men," she sobbed, "the worst is that I heard they were planning to sell her."

"Sell her?" Nadir blanched, "what do you mean!"

"Sell her body for money," her eyes closed tightly, "to men who paid enough. The rumors were flying around after I left. I spent the entire night searching for your address and the women I work with told me that they saw a blonde man sometime later in the night. He was asking gentlemen who were wandering the streets for women like myself if they'd like to deflower a young woman who works in the Opera House. It didn't take me very long to assume that it was the very same gentlemen whom I had seen in the home." Her eyes turned up to Nadir's horrified expression, "I believe that they realize that I am a danger to their secret and they are trying to make money as quickly as possible before they leave. I am certain they will try to leave France, perhaps they will take her with them."

"That will not happen!" Nadir exclaimed and then hurried to a closet, he pulled out another coat and passed it to her, "now you will take me to their home."

**…**

"Please… no…" Christine Daae moaned again.

She could feel nothing. She did not recognize where she was anymore, she was not sure she was even breathing, she did not find it in her to even care, she just wanted _Him_. She wanted the tall, broad shouldered masked man; he didn't even have to wear his disguise. She just wanted to hear him, he could yell and that would be better than this awful silence without him. Her head felt like it was going to fall off her neck, she couldn't stand this.

They had given her more morphine in her sleep, enough to keep her barely lucid, enough to impair her movements. When she woke she realized this to some degree, but she wasn't horrified, she was unfeeling.

"Please…" she asked weakly, "Angel.. where are you?..."

"I'm right here," he whispered gently, she sighed gently, relaxing again. He'd go silent sometimes, it frightened her, why did he do that to her? "relax Christine…"

"Ange," she whispered with a croak, her words were coming out incoherently, and she couldn't feel her lips. It was a struggle to familiarize herself with how to move her mouth around the words she tried so hard to utter, "I am sorry."

"Shh…" she imagined he was touching her hair, "it's alright now."

She smiled despite herself.

"She is truly out of all her senses," Jonathan laughed as Christine stared at him, unseeing with a strange smile on her face; she looked as if she were in heaven, "who do you supposed she believes I am?"

"Perhaps her father?" Nathaniel growled, "Stupid wench," he winced at the pain on his face, there was a strong red gash at his cheek, speaking hurt him. Jonathan had poured alcohol at least five times over the wound to try and ensure that there was no infection.

"Do not fret dear friend," Jonathan smiled, standing and brushing his blonde hair from his face and staring at the large man with a mischievous gaze, "soon she will have enough seed dripping from between her legs to drown herself in, and she will never again attempt something like last night."

"Are they all downstairs?" Nathaniel stated as Jonathan ensured that Christine was indeed physically numb, he stroked her bare arms carefully, gauging her face for any reaction, and she just smiled lazily up at him.

"There are only about three of them, they are all paying a high price for her. Highest bidder goes first." Jonathan glanced down at her immobile body, "should we undress her now then?"

"No, I am sure they'd like to do that," Nathaniel disagreed, "come, let us go attend to our hosts before they run up here and take her without paying."

…

Nadir ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Erik should be here. But there was simply no time to get him, there was no time to argue with him about _everything_. He would do this on his own and then bring Christine to the Opera House.

He only prayed that he would get there fast enough. The redheaded woman seemed sure of her direction, so he assumed that they would get their quickly.

"Did she look ill?" Nadir asked as they turned a corner hurriedly. The sun had started to go down; he knew that soon Erik would be prowling the streets, had he waited to go to the Opera House they would have lost hours in trying to save Christine.

"She looked dazed," the woman looked to him, "do you think they gave her something to keep her compliant?"

"I am certain of it," Nadir nodded, trying to contain his building anxiety, "I only hope that it was not enough to create an addiction of some sort."

"I do not think they had enough time monsieur," the woman answered.

"What is your name?" Nadir asked, they turned another corner.

"I am Rebecca."

He smiled, "a very nice name."

"Thank you," she murmured shyly. She had never been complimented.

**…**

"Stop that," Erik demanded of the animal that followed him everywhere, "you must obey me when I tell you something. This is not your home unless Christine agrees to keep you." The kitten blinked up at him, "I must go in a few hours," he explained, "and when I am gone I will expect to find everything in its normal condition. Do you understand, animal?"

It lazily rolled onto its back. He sighed and rolled his eyes away from it before bending down and picking it up.

He hated this. Even after the sun went down men and women still roamed the streets, in turn he had to wait until the prostitutes came out to join society. Until then he had to sit here with the insufferable kitten.

Silently he settled in front of the piano. He would try to write a song, yes he would try to write a song. Quickly he began to jot down phrases that had been popping into his head... minutes passed, and minutes turned to hours. He found himself drowning in the music he wrote, but everytime he'd glance at the watch he'd realize not enough time had passed.

By the time he finished writing the song he titled it Until I Hear You Sing.

**…**

Her wrists hurt her. She looked down at them and frowned. Trying to move them around seemed impossible, they were just so heavy.

"Aren't you pretty," a deep voice murmured.

She looked up with confusion as a shadowy figure approached, she could hardly make out words, her eyesight was so dim that she could not see anything except his looming outline. She wanted to ask who he was, why her limbs were so weighty, and why it was that she was floating over the mattress. But she could not locate her tongue to do these things.

"You and I are goin' to enjoy ourselves," he stated, she heard a smile in his voice and groaned, closing her eyes as a wave of exhaustion passed over her. She heard him moving around the room and then the bed dipped. She opened her eyes slightly.

The man did find her beautiful. Even in her drugged state of mind she looked ethereal. There was a slight bruise on her face but it did nothing to remove her overall beauty.

Shakily he reached out with his chubby fingers and touched the hem of her gown. He watched her face as he slowly began lifting it up. She made no move to stop him, only stared at him through a half lidded gaze.

"I'm going to take mighty good care of you," he whispered, licking his pink lips and then carefully looking at her lean petite legs. Dancer's legs, he bent low and kissed her ankle, watching her warily. She made no movement to protest. With a smirk he realized she was truly too far gone, she would not protest to anything he did.

Wasting no time at all he tugged at his cravat, and then the buttons of his shirt, his belly spilled over the top of his pants.

He began to harden at the sight of the woman and struggled to pull down his pants. He managed and then removed the rest of his clothing until he stood naked before her. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes had closed and her breathing became deeper.

The man stroked himself as he watched her cloth covered breast rise and fall, carefully he padded over to her, he wanted to waste no time at all. He had to be home with enough time to crawl into bed before his wife could start asking questions, so carefully he moved onto the bed. It dipped under his weight.

He reached down and pulled the dress up, and up until it was at the top of her hips, he looked down and groaned with need. Roughly he ripped apart the material that kept her most private area away from his eyesight.

"My, my, how delectable," he groaned under his breath as he eyeballed the small tufts of hair on her mound.

She moaned at the cool air that touched her there, and shifted uncomfortably but he quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, pressing her down so that she would make no attempts to turn away from him.

_She's glorious… so perfect – _he thought with a lick of his lips. He stroked her pale thighs eagerly and then reached up and quickly ripped her gown in half. Christine groaned as the material burned her flesh in the process and frowned slightly, unsure of what was going on but knowing that something was biting into her skin.

He eagerly palmed her breasts, pinching the nipples until they stiffened, delighting in the way she frowned and mewled in pain

"Do you like this?" He asked, laying beside her and resuming to lower his hand until he made contact with the folds between her legs. Eagerly he parted the flesh and let his finger roam the area there. She fell into her stupor again and made no sound. She didn't even seem to feel it. He eagerly poked a finger into her before removing it. He would not take her with his finger. She would not cry out from that.

Sloppily he pressed his lips to her neck and reached up again, pinching the nipples. Her skin tasted nicely against his mouth.

"I bet you do like this, you are a _whore_, laying here for me like this," he grinned and stole a long lick up the side of her face, he chuckled darkly when the young beauty moaned and turned her face away. He pressed his erection to her thigh, "I'm going to fuck you until you can hardly stand, Christine Daae," he growled eagerly, "and when I watch you in the streets of Paris I will know that I was the one to rip your little quim apart."

"Mhm," she moaned and twisted away from his hand drowsily. Christine's eyes slid open and she shifted uncomfortably, something was pressed against against her, She sifted away from me, resisting the urge to cry out from lack of body control but she felt something press her shoulder back to the mattress.

"Where do ya' think your going, my little cunt," he chuckled and bit her cheek roughly, she cried out quietly, "you are here to please me you little slut," roughly he pushed her thighs apart, touching the bundle of nerves at the crown of her mound and pinching it. She moaned with discomfort as the pain popped through the numbness.

Suddenly he heard thundering steps up the stairs. He frowned and watched the door carefully.

**…**

Nadir stormed up the steps, ignoring the shouts of men as he went. Rebecca stood at the bottom with Nadir's gun aimed high. She had agreed to come with him after all.

He barreled through the wooden door and froze.

Christine lay with her legs splayed open and a man lay beside her with his hands between her legs, his eyes were wide and as dark as night.

"Get away from her!" Nadir yelled loudly.

Instantly the man jumped up from the bed as Rebecca pushed past Nadir with her gun raised at the man, "stand in the corner." She ordered bleakly, "or I'll shoot ye' cock off."

The man stumbled to the corner of the room and huddled down there, covering himself as best as he could while Nadir ran over to Christine with tears in his eyes, "oh Christine, little one," he wept quietly and peeled off his jacket quickly, he didn't feel comfortable with her naked and vulnerable like this. He draped it over her figure and shook her lightly, "can you hear me?"

She didn't respond, her eyes remained closed, her full lips parted as her breath left her. Without wasting more time he pulled her up to his chest. Her head fell backwards, lolling there, he adjusted her quickly, blinking at the tears in his eyes and trying to focus without panicking.

He wanted to harm that man, he felt the rage boiling in him but he suppressed with easily, he needed to get her out of here.

"Rebecca come, we must get out of here!"

"Yes," Rebecca agreed and turned; she aimed the gun eye eye level and started leading them down the stairs.

Men were piled there, and as soon as they saw the gun they started running down, clearing the pathway.

Nadir glanced quickly behind him to ensure that the man who had been in the room with Christine was not following them, and then he looked down to her. Her face was pale, she appeared as if though she hadn't eaten, and there was a bruise on the side of her face. He kissed her forehead quietly and followed Rebecca.

"You!" She hollered suddenly when they reached the bottom of the stairs, Nadir looked to what it was that she was glancing at. She was pointing her gun at a man with a gash on his face, "he is the one Nadir, he is the one that Christine threw the lamp at!"

Nadir took a good look at him and then shook his head, looking away, trying to reel in the anger he felt in his body, he wanted her to pull that trigger, but that would stain her hands with blood that was not hers to take.

"And he's the other one!" Rebecca continued, looking at a blonde male with blue eyes who was staring at Christine's body with rage, but then at Nadir with horror, "he's the one who was pulling her up the stairs."

Nadir internalized their faces. He'd make sure to return for them at another time.

"Let us go," Nadir stated sharply. Rebecca nodded and quickly ordered men to move away from the door, when they seemed too paralyzed to move she began to count to three and tighten her finger over the trigger. Nadir didn't know whether or not she would pull it but did not have a chance to find out as the men quickly moved away from the doorway.

And just like that they stepped out of the house and into the cold night.

Instantly they were running. Nadir kept looking behind him along with Rebcca but no one followed. They just kept going, and going until they reached a corner that was closer to the Opera House then nearer to the house they had just left.

"Nadir this is as far as I dare go," Rebecca stated softly. He looked at her with understanding and kindness.

"Thank you so much, you have no idea…" a tear escaped him and he looked down at Christine who struggled for comfort in his arms, "I can never repay you for what you've done. I cannot thank you enough. Know that if you are ever in need of anything that I am forever in your debt-

"Nadir I am leaving Paris," Rebecca shook her head and cast nervous glances around them, still holding the gun tightly, "after what has transpired a woman of my profession does not have any safety. I already do not have safety, and now… whatever shred of it I did have is gone. People know my face. Those men in there have money, do you understand?" Her voice became croaky, "they will hunt me down… you are safe because you are a citizen here that is well known. They would not dare to touch you, but me?" She shook her head.

"I understand," he agreed, "thank you so much, be safe on your journey Rebecca, you are a kind soul."

"Thank you Nadir, you as well… take care of Miss Daae," she smiled softly and handed him his gun, when she saw that he could not really take it she blushed and put it into his pocket. She then made a move to remove his jacket from his shoulders.

"Keep it, it is cold and I have plenty more."

Her green eyes twinkled up at him, "truly?"

"Truly," he smiled. She nodded at him sharply once, "goodbye Monsieur Khan."

"Goodbye Rebecca."

He turned his back and started quickly walking towards the Opera House, he'd steal glances at Christine every now and then, trying to listen to her breathing for any signs of sickness. He heard none; the only thing that worried him was her state of mind.

He couldn't shake the image of the man touching her, and he had tried very hard to not look at her body much as he took in the scene, but he knew eventually he'd have to to ensure that she had not been raped.

And what would he tell Erik? He could not lie to him, no, not about something like this.

Erik was going to lose his mind.

The Opera House loomed in the distance. Nadir began to grow panicked and his walking pace increased. Easily he lock picked his way into the door of the side, remembering all the tricks he had learned in Persia. He stumbled blindly through the dark, his arms hurting from carrying Christine so far.

_Erik is going to kill them all, Erik is going to go insane, Erik is going to blind himself with rage. _

He entered one of the tunnels easily and had to stop walking for am moment to control his breathing, Christine moaned quietly with discomfort.

"Christine can you hear me?" He whispered very quietly.

"_Ange?…"_ was her only response, and then she fell silent again, so he pushed his feet to move.

He went lower, and lower, deeper and deeper into Erik's home. The air became stuffier and more oppressive, but he was certain it was just his panic making everything more concentrated. He swore his chest would have a bruise from how hard his heart thundered within his chest.

Finally he spotted the candle light's.

Nadir moved forward quietly. He could hear Erik's footsteps around the home, along with a strange meowing sound.

He stepped forward into the lair and swallowed back the growing knot in his throat. Instantly he caught sight of Erik by the organ. He seemed to be writing something and checking a pocket watch every now and then. Then Erik's back stiffened, as if he caught scent of something.

The masked phantasmal presence sharply stood and whirled around. Nadir fell to his knees.

* * *

**...*Screams as the readers beat her with their shoes***

**Did that turn out how you expected? Did you think Erik would be the one to do the actual saving? **

**I'll explain quickly why I chose to not go that path. First, it makes it more hilarious to see people's anticipation when he actually DOES see her, and second, logically the Erik character I've been developing would jump into a rage and start killing everyone. Erik would logically not survive a bunch of men fighting against him like that - so Nadir seemed the proper way to go. **

**And now we have to see what Erik's reaction will be.**

**Another thing is that I didn't want the whole, 'Christine is saved in time before she is molested' thing to happen. I feel that that is too dramatic, and not only that but I realize because of my own life that just because one is molested, or raped, it doesn't mean that they are ruined. And I feel like a lot of writers avoid having Christine actually groped because perhaps they feel it truly makes her 'impure' even in Erik's eyes, and I just don't like that is realistic or a good way to write. One must take risks, and also I just don't think Erik would see her as impure, do you get what I mean?**

**I just like to push the limits or something, oh well. **

**Only those reviews will get you a quick update. So HIT THAT BUTTON :D and tell me what your feelings were throughout this chapter! I'm so excited to hear. **


	25. Truths

**Chapter XXV**

"Give her to me!" He commanded harshly. The phantasmal man jumped forward and wrenched her quickly and forcefully from the older man's arms. Every muscle in his body locked as he grabbed her. Her weight felt so familiar, the feel of her so _close_ to him was both exhilarating and calming. _She's here, she's in my arms, with me, and she's safe._

"Christine?" He began shaking her lightly; his breath was coming out shortly. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest. Why wasn't she responding? Her eyes were not open, instead they were half lidded and flickering rather violently, "Christine answer me," he demanded with a frustrated frown.

She did not respond.

"Erik we must get her to her room, I will explain what happened when the time comes but right now we must get her proper care," Nadir stood, exhausted and struggling to stand. His legs protested against the weight of his upper body, Erik seemed to not be listening to him, he only stared at Christine's flickering eyelids with bulging eyes, "I know it looks frightening but we must move now Erik, please."

Without answering he quickly turned and strode with long steps towards her bedroom. Nadir ran in front of him and pushed the door open, freezing at what he saw within the room.

Everything was thrown around; nothing was where it should have been. Not even the bed. The mirror itself was shattered with pieces lying within the frame but most of it was on the cool rock at their feet. Erik shoved past Nadir without waiting to explain and quickly laid one knee on Christine's bed, gently, as if she were the very glass that lay broken, he placed her on the bed. She looked just as wrecked as everything else in the room.

Nadir did not bother to ask what had happened.

Instead he quickly moved over to the closet and looked for a dress.

"Why is she not clothed?" Erik's voice was tight. When Nadir turned he saw that the taller man was staring at her with distress clear on his face, as if he were trying to figure something out, "Nadir answer me," his voice sounded strained, so strangely innocent in its understanding of this. It made the Persian's compassion flicker.

"I will explain that to you later," Nadir stated quietly and pulled from the closet a yellow gown.

He made his way back to her, beside Erik and made a move to touch her forehead but quickly found his wrist caught in a bone crushing grip.

"Erik!"

"Do not put your hands on her," he growled and harshly threw Nadir's hand away from her. His expression darkened behind the mask.

"Have you lost your mind? I am the one who knows more about her state, not you!"

"Are you throwing that in my face, Daroga?" Erik's voice held a dangerous edge to it, he stepped forward, blocking Nadir's direct view of Christine and slowly casting a thick shadow over him, "are you mocking the fact that yet again I am the monster in the story? Are you laughing at me?"

"I am not laughing at you," Nadir stated with a slight tremble, he didn't meet the amber eyes that looked down at him, he clutched the dress tightly in his fingers and instead stared at the man's chest, anywhere but those eyes, "I am simply stating that you do not know what happened, or why she's here, and I do. I know why her eyes flicker so rapidly, so let me help her."

"You will explain everything to me in time," Erik warned angrily, "everything."

"Yes," Nadir nodded firmly, nervously and eager to have this man move away from him.

Erik stepped to the side and when Nadir moved over to Christine he was instantly right there, watching him carefully. He analyzed everything Nadir did so that when he kicked the Persian out he would be able to do it himself. He would not go down as the bystander while Nadir saved the day, no, no, no. _How would Christine forgive me then?_ The thought that she might be angry with him when she woke distressed him further. With a trembling hand he reached up and stroked the strands of hair falling in his face backwards. They fell back again. It seemed as if every fiber of his being was in a state of disorder.

"Erik, you might wish to leave the room," Nadir warned as he laid out the dress.

"Why would I want to leave the room?"

"Because I am going to remove the jacket and then I am going to dress her."

Erik stiffened and fidgeted, suddenly discomforted at the prospect of Nadir seeing her when she was so vulnerable, and angry at the fact that she wasn't dressed in the first place, "I will turn my back."

"If you so wish."

Nadir watched Erik firmly turn his back and clench his hands behind himself, he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. The man was not going to leave her side for a moment, no matter what.

As Nadir removed the jacket draped over Christine's immobile figure he became instantly aware of the bruises on her neck. He shuddered and tossed a look at Erik, surely he had not seen them yet, and he knew that there would be mayhem when he did.

Keeping an air of professionalism Nadir kept his eyes only where they had to, he struggled to stop the shaking of his own hands. Carefully, he moved her body into a sitting position and slipped the gown over her head, he had a bit of difficulty with the difficult task of moving an uncooperative body, but eventually he got it on but did not bother to fasten all the laces tightly around her

"Are you done?" Erik snapped impatiently.

"Yes, my friend."

Instantly the black shadow was at her side, fidgeting with her hair and framing it around her face. Her chocolate curls slipped through his fingers easily and he struggled to contain a moan at it. But those eyelids, the way they flickered! How they stopped whatever comfort he had at her presence.

"What is this Khan, what is that!"

"Erik take a seat-

"I will not," he shook his head stubbornly, the white mask caught candle light and then darkness over and over, "explain it, what were you doing with Christine? From the beginning. Out with it!"

"Yes," Nadir ran a hand through his hair as the masked figure did so often, ""I.." Nadir sighed, "the woman came to me… her name is Rebecca, the redheaded woman. She came to me and told me that she had been at a home servicing a man when a young woman came running down the stairs. There was a struggle and she explained to me that Christine threw a lamp and injured one of the attackers—

"What?" _Attackers?_ He thought, _that is plural._

"I do not know whom they are my friend; I only know where they live. I do not know how they came upon her but we will have to ask her that when she wakes." Nadir continued, "She told me that Christine started a wild fit of shrieking her name. She ran out of the home and found me earlier in this afternoon; I did not come to you because I wanted to reach Christine in time. When I got there…" Nadir swallowed. Erik's gaze intensified with curiosity, and annoyance, "when I got there I found men in the home. I barreled through them and Rebecca held the weapon to keep them at bay. I ran up the stairs and," he pinched the bridge of his nose. The image of Christine with her legs splayed disturbed him more than he thought possible.

"Out with it Daroga!"

"I found her naked, drugged, and being touched by another man," Nadir moved his eyes away from Erik, afraid to see what expression he held, "I—

A crash sounded through the room. Nadir caught sight of Erik storming out the door. He stood there in shock for a moment, and then just as fast Erik opened the door and came back into the room with a crazed gaze. He stared at Christine's sleeping form with wide frightened eyes as if though Christine was at fault for his sudden return, as if though he were afraid of the repercussions of leaving the room, "did you kill him?" Erik whispered hollowly.

"What? No, I did-

"Good." Erik nodded, "this is very, very, good. What did he look like? You will draw me a sketch. And if you do not because of your majestic sense of good and wrong tell me now. It will make the task more difficult, yes… But I will find out, _yes_ I will find out!" He suddenly exclaimed, Nadir jumped away in shock as Erik charged towards the dresser and crouched to the ground before a box. He threw out a pale hand and uttered unintelligible curses and phrases and sentences that Nadir could hardly understand. He was searching rabidly through it, "touch her… Christine.. demons, monsters, bastards! Bastards! Bastards!… _Death_!" He threw out the last word with a hard breath and whirled around.

"What is that?" Nadir asked as he watched Erik move to Christine. In his hand he held something glistening in a hardly delicate fist.

He grabbed her hand roughly first, looking at it and then nodded to himself as if accepted something, he ran his thumb over an opal ring on her finger.

Erik then proceeded to gracefully move her body into a seated position with more ease then Nadir could ever have had. He moved mechanically and ignored Nadir who moved closer with curiosity as Erik had earlier. He began to drape what Nadir realized was an extravagantly jeweled necklace that fit more like brace around her throat, but Erik suddenly stopped.

"Damn it," Nadir realized he had laid eyes on the bruise.

"No!" Erik howled and threw himself away from her, "no! No!"

"Erik!" Nadir flew towards him as the man backed himself into a corner where only his amber eyes caught light from the flickering flames in the room, "you must relax it is just a bruise!"

"_Noo_," he moaned terribly and covered his face, "what could she have done!"

"Nothing my friend," Nadir reached out hesitantly and touched the shoulder of the figure in black, "you must realize that Christine could have done nothing to deserve this. Those men will pay fear for their crimes Erik, I assure you that. But it is just a bruise; her voice will be alright-

Nadir quickly found himself on the floor. His temple exploded with pain and Erik's fist was still clenched from the blow to the Persians cheek. Nadir spluttered with shock at both the lightning speed of the punch and the amazingly acute agony in his face.

"You think I worry about _her voice?"_ Erik hissed violently, towering over the older man on the ground who started up at him in fear, shaking like a tree in winter under the ocher orbs in Erik's head, "you think this is about her _voice_?"

"Erik I-

"How dare you!" Erik exploded. His hand darted out and Nadir made a move to roll away but quickly found himself pressed to the concrete ground with the pale hand clenched around his throat, slowly suffocating him.

"Erik," he croaked out his neck helplessly. His throat bulged beneath the long powerful fingers as they slowly crushed him, he scratched wildly at the arm that so easily held him down like an animal who had misbehaved. He grew more horrified at the amber ferocity gleaming down at him.

"You have offended me for the last time Daroga," he spoke like a God grown weary of foolish antics, "you think I worry about her _voice_? Christine's voice is important, but her health comes _first_," his grip tightened with every word, "or are you so foolish to actually believe that _that_ would be my main concern?" He squeezed tighter, efficiently cutting off any and all airflow he had allowed, only his voice remained soundly through the room, "do you really believe that about me?"

Nadir's eyes began rolling into the back of his head.

Quickly Erik released him and Nadir remained still underneath him. Unmoving and silent.

Then the oxygen rushed back into him and he gasped wildly for air. The pale hand that had been so violent carefully rolled him onto his chest so that he might breathe more easily. Nadir let out a strangled cough and clutched his dark throat. His temples throbbed; the blood rushed back to his head, his eyeballs blazed with small jolts of pain.

"Do not ever presume my relationship with Christine to be so shallow," Erik warned him.

As Nadir sat on the floor, rubbing his throat and struggling to breathe he heard Erik moving around to Christine's side.

The masked man carefully laid a hand on her bruised throat, her skin felt hot against his very cool fingers, and she released a strange sigh. Erik pulled his hand away from her in shock, had he harmed her? He noticed that when his hand left her a small twitch went through her face, as if though she were annoyed. Experimentally, he reached forward with curiosity and dared to touch her again, pressing his palm flat against the other side of her neck so that his thumb crossed over the front of her throat. She sighed again and shifted slightly, he kept his hand there with astonishment. She was not repulsed by it.

"So you love her then," Nadir Khan croaked from the ground where he had been left, "you care for Christine's life not for what it offers you but for what it _is_. You love Christine."

Erik whipped his head around, keeping his hand on Christine's throat, not wishing to upset her. The eye from behind the mask gleamed as strands of hair blocked the other, "you foolish man!" His voice was not as snappy as he would have liked, "I should end your life now for insinuating such nightmarish things for her."

"But you do not deny it."

_I do not deny it… _Erik realized with fright, outwardly he exuded calm and annoyance, "shut your filthy, ridiculous, sinful mouth Nadir Khan," Nadir rolled his eyes, "monsters do not belong with others. The fact that she lays here in this state should tell you that."

"And yet you do not deny it, you do not deny that you love Christine," Nadir smirked and came to a stand, he bit his lip to stifle a laugh despite the inappropriateness of it, Erik had turned back to Christine and did not catch the mischievous glint in Nadir Khan's eyes.

Nadir Khan had known what he was doing all along suggesting that her voice was more important to Erik then her life. And while he had rather _hoped_ that Erik didn't choke him, he had prepared for it nonetheless.

Erik finally answered in a soft whisper, "I would never deny that."

Now that was something Nadir Khan had not prepared himself for.

* * *

_"Shut your filthy, ridiculous, sinful mouth Nadir Khan" - _**haha that was my favorite line to write, and then Nadir's eye roll lik****_e _**_'Wow, BUURN, nice comeback moron"_ **hahaha**

**So what did you think? I would have updated yesterday but I was NOT happy with what I wrote, and i've learned that when IM not happy about what I write I can't come up with things to write after it, so I was like I'll give them an early update and cut the chapter so that it's not so much crap thrown in at once. So I hope you like'd this chapter! Because I think that while it was short it gave a lot of insight into different things...**

**And Erik has admitted something thats... kind of a big deal... SO I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AS MUCH AS I DO. I am strangely proud of this chapter. It's not Over the Top like Erik ROARING about how she is HIS and how her body is HIS and things like that that I've seen done, I mean that stuff might look cute but I didn't want to make Erik look as if though he feels like HER OWNER, yes he finds himself in a position of authority with her but I don't see the Erik I have built up as being the type to even find himself WORTHY of 'claiming' her so he wouldn't do something like that even if he might 'claim' her voice I think her voice and her body are two very different things to him. Because while with her voice he knows well, and he himself knows how to teach her to use it and he can easily control it, he is not as in touch with human sexuality as most people. So I don't think he would feel as if though he could really say 'her body is mine' the same way he might say 'her voice is mine'. Am I making sense? Just a little insight into my thought process. Plus I decided to inject a bit of symbolic things in Erik's thought process. I think it was pretty clear :O **

**Review! :) I really hope you all like it :)**


	26. Déjà vu

**Chapter XXVI**

After Erik's subtle declaration of love Nadir left the room quietly and rested on a chair in the kitchen, letting his head fall to his arm and sleeping. Hours and hours passed in silence and when he woke he had realized it was morning, quickly he began preparing a tea. He was certain that Christine would wake with pains and awfully exhausted and confused. The masked figure had stuck to the shadows and watched her face with curiosity and a building anticipation. He wanted her to wake up; he would bear whatever harsh words she had ready for him. He might not want them but if it meant that he would hear that lovely voice, and be graced with those sweet eyes on him he would endure it.

At some point he stood and decided to prepare her food, he was certain she would wake hungry.

He ignored Nadir Khan completely and moved around him gracefully.

"Do you think that Raoul de Chagny is still looking?" Nadir asked quietly. The name made the taller man stiffen.

"I am certain of it. Let him look, let him exhaust himself."

"Do you suppose that the managers believe that Christine is missing amid the rumors people are spreading?"

"They most likely do. But it is of no consequence. They would wisely accept her back into their opera if she wanted to go back."

Nadir stared at Erik with confusion now, "wanted? Do you think that Christine will not want to automatically? You say that as if though there were a chance that she would deny herself the pleasure of gracing the stage again."

Erik's jaw tightened, thinking about Christine's talent going to waste, "she might not want that anymore. I alone am to blame for everything that has happened. And I alone am the monster that created all of this, she knows it, I know it, and you know it. Raoul de Chagny most likely suspects it. Sooner or later she will get up from that bed and I will face her because I owe her that." He paused, stirred the soup and shuddered, "and when that happens she will rip me apart with the look in her eyes."

"What are you talking about?"

"She will be kind to me at first," Erik suspected, "she will talk to me of how much she missed me, but the look in her eyes will always be apprehensive of me. Even if she stays she will always look at me and anticipate the monster I had become with her."

"Oh.. Erik," Nadir sighed sadly, rubbing his forehead.

"And so you see Nadir, that tells me that she fears me." His voice took a darker turn, "I _know_ that she fears me, and that will never change. She will come to see it soon enough, but I don't have to have her awake to know it."

Moments of silence passed between the two men as one prepared the soup and the other tea. Erik's words made Nadir sad for the man. He knew that there was a part of Christine that would most certainly fear Erik, but he hoped that she would be able to find it in herself to forgive Erik for his ill temper.

"She's awake," Erik murmured suddenly, he poured the soup into a small bowl and grabbed a tea cup and poured the liquid into that slowly.

"Erik?!" He heard her strangled cry and sighed, Nadir blinked in shock.

_How did he know? _

Erik then started making his way towards the tunnel leading to Christine's room when he stopped suddenly, Nadir was still standing in the kitchen, "come with me Daroga, I won't have her screaming at the sight of me."

When they reached the door Nadir slowly pushed it open, he was confused as to how Erik knew that Christine was awake but didn't bother to ask. Erik's explanation would be as cryptic as this place was dark, and he was not going to bother his mind by trying to figure it out.

Upon entering the room Erik's amber eyes landed on her hesitantly, but like a man starved of food.

"Oh Christine," he breathed out as she blinked at him with surprise and shock. Her big wide eyes were disbelieving, and she was gripping the bed sheets as if they might vanish from around her. She looked so _small_.

"Erik, is that really you? Nadir? Oh God they've done it to me again," she whispered and shut her eyes. Nadir moved forward slowly.

"Christine you are not drugged, I've found you and brought you back home."

Her eyes slid open and she looked from Nadir to Erik.

He looked disheveled; he didn't look as she remembered him. His hair was falling all over the top of his mask and his forehead, and his amber gaze seemed dim and sad, even his stance looked awkward. As if he were not home and if not in some strangers place.

"Why do you stand so far?" she croaked, wishing he were closer, she wanted to hold him and plead for forgiveness.

Nadir looked at Erik as well and realized that he had not stepped into the room, if not he was hovering just outside the door.

"I would not enter without your permission," Erik answered, his voice was emotionless.

Suddenly she let out a small breathy laugh, and then tears streamed down her face, that beautiful voice, "Oh God, Erik, you are so strange," She cried from the bed. He blinked at her, shocked and confused as she laughed and continued to let the tears flow freely. Nadir stayed frozen, wide eyed and unsure, "you stand far away from me as if I'd lash out and harm you? I have missed you and you wait for permission to come nearer to me? You'd keep me from yourself when I've wanted nothing to see you again?" She was laughing at him, he realized, "do you doubt that I care for you that much?"

Cautiously he stepped forward into the bedroom.

"How are you feeling Christine?" Nadir asked softly, moving forward and sitting beside her, he took her hands and smiled softly, "we went through quite a bit to find you."

She didn't know what to say. How did she feel?

She felt confused – because she could not remember how she got here, she felt out of place, because Erik was not beside her as he should have been, she felt angry because he was not speaking to her as much as she would have liked, and finally she felt relief, because she had him here nonetheless.

She thought of Jonathan, and of Nathaniel, of the way they had behaved with her and shuddered, suppressing it all back.

"I feel many things," she surmised and pulled Nadirs hand tightly into her own, "I feel tired. Confused… hungry…"

"Are you in pain?" Nadir asked warily.

Her eyes slid over to Erik yet again, he was still just standing there, not moving, _why does he stand so far! _ "I am not, my legs hurt a bit, and my head… I feel a bit dizzy and strange but I do not feel any intense amounts of pain."

"Erik, bring us the tea if you will," Nadir stated softly, looking at Christine who stared at Erik longingly. It reminded him so much of the first time she had laid eyes on Erik in his home, the look in her eyes, the curiosity and the confusion and fascination at his presence.

_She stares at me with confusion, what is there to be confused about? _Erik wondered as he moved forward, deeper into the room and closer to the source of any happiness he had, he didn't deserve this, and the closer he moved to her the more unjust it felt, _Yes Christine, it is I, the same man who threw you into the cold. _

He set the tray down on the dresser and then carefully grabbed the tea cup and brought it towards her, she looked up at him with the tears still there.

He quickly looked away, ashamed, evasive. He moved away from her, not noticing the hurt look on her face.

_He hates me, he does not see me as Christine if not as the woman who saw his face, and he does not want me here still. He stares at me without regard as if he has never known me and I am a mere stranger in his home… he does not want me here. _The realization made Christine's heart clenched tightly.

"Christine, are you alright?" Nadir asked, noticing how her color drained from her face and how her eyes had wandered far away as he had been talking to her, explaining to her that she needed to stay in bed, her and Erik had seemed locked in their own worlds!

"No, no I am not." Her response came out hollowly, and she stared at the tea cup in her hands without yearning for it at all. She had hardly eaten properly and yet she had suddenly lost her appetite.

_What if Raoul was right? What if he just used me for my voice and nothing more? _

"I wish to be left alone," she stated quietly, looking down at the ring still on her finger, it felt as heavy as rock, "please."

"Of course Christine," Nadir whispered and stood from the bed. He started making his way past Erik when Christine spoke up again.

Erik watched with horror as she looked down at her hand and slowly started twisting the ring back and forth to get it off, "here, take this," she whispered harshly, the tears had stopped flowing now and there was only annoyance in her voice.

"What are you doing?" His voice left him with agitation, she didn't listen to him. She just kept muttering little things and weakly tugging at the ring, wincing as she did it. _What did she think she was doing! _"stop that-

"Take it!" She bit at him, Nadir turned in the hallway just as Erik marched deeply into the room and to the bedside. He reached down and grabbed her wrists apart as she seemed to be ready to pull her finger off just to get the ring away from her. Touching her made a jolt of cold shoot up his spine. She turned her blue eyes up at him, glaring furiously.

"Do you hate me so much?" He asked seriously, the amber gaze lit up like a spark had gone off inside him, _so there is life in him yet! _She cried out mentally. Erik continued, "do you hate me so much that you would part from the only material piece you have of me!"

She rose up onto her knees until she was more at his eye level, but still he towered over her! Her temper flared and exploded as he held her wrists firmly still so that she wouldn't harm her hands. "You are a cruel man Erik!" She shouted up at him, shocking him to not end as she continued, "I have done nothing but aim to please you and you look at me as if I were a stranger. You do not want me here! That is plain to see!"

_Has she lost her mind? Yes, I must keep my temper under control. She has been through a lot, she is simply upset, _he thought with confusion as she continued. Her beautiful face twisted up with annoyance and the bruise deepened in color as blood rushed to her face.

"You _never_ cared for me as you led me to believe," He winced, hurt by her lack of understanding, "I wanted you, and _only_ you," _yes Christine… only me when you thought you knew all of what resided within this beast of a man that I am_! "and your music and _us_!" She felt feverish and weakened, dropping back onto the back of her feet and breathing heavily. He still held her wrists firmly still, she would not cry, "how can you do this to me?"

The sight of her made him break. Her hair was falling thickly over her head, casting a shadow over her as she bowed her head before him. Her arms were held up only by his own hands, and for a long time all he could do was hold them, afraid that if he let go she would bolt and leave him.

He found his voice coming out before he could stop it, "would you like to leave Christine?" His eyes showed no emotion as he stared blankly at the space before him, "perhaps that would be best. Perhaps it will be best if you go to Raoul de Chagny's home… he could take care of you and give you all the sunlight and love and riches that I cannot. He would never harm you as I have."

Christine fiercely tugged her wrists away from him, staring up at him like the stranger he had become, furiously glaring, "stop talking Erik."

"It is the truth," he slowly said, noticing how wild her appearance was, how beautiful, was this what Raoul de Chagny saw when he first looked upon her? Then yes, he could see what it was that the boy loved about her though he did not know her half as well as Erik did… but she looked wild, strong, courageous, a force to be reckoned with and lost none of the delicacy from herself in the process. _Yes, I understand now, Raoul de Chagny, what it is that you love about her, but her love is not _yours_… it cannot be yours! _And yet he pushed, "do you not understand that he will be better for you? Are you so delusional to think that I can give you all the things you want? You of all people should know better.

"Do you think that I do not see the hatred that you hold for me Christine?" His eyes flashed down to hers, she looked enraged, "you hate me and I cannot stand the sight of you when you stare that way at me. You stare at me as if though I was your foe and you are right to think that I am. I have been a monster to you. And as much as I would like to change that I know what you see when you see me. And you will never see that with Raoul de Chagny, you will see a beautiful man who loves you, and you will love him in return by nature. When you look at me you will see this… monster, this repulsive creature who seems a beast, and is a beast, but secretly…" his voice faded, "secretly dreams of beauty—

He didn't see it coming, but he heard her hand slicing through the air.

The stinging slap she landed against the side of his face sent his head right. He blinked, shocked, confused! _Did she strike me? She struck me!_

Slowly he returned his gaze to her, shocked. She was glaring at him like he had never seen. She rose back onto her knees before him slowly, suddenly it seemed as though she were the one towering over him. He said nothing and he swore he heard the fire crackling in her eyes. She looked beautiful, and he was afraid of her. She looked ethereal a goddess of rage and passion. He couldn't help but notice how the gown had bunched around her knees, and how her breathing accentuated the curves of her collarbone.

"Do not ever again assume you know my emotions, Erik," her voice was low and warning, her stare icy and cold, "or do you think me so shallow that I will love Raoul 'by nature' because of his face, and his hair and his home? Hmm? Do you say that because I am a woman, or because you are afraid of the truth?" he did not respond, embarrassed suddenly, "I do _not_ hate you. And you know that well. You stand only a foe in my eyes because you are in the way of what_ I_ want!"

He winced as her voice rose and stepped away from her, staring at her with apprehension, "and what is it that you want Christine?"

The ice melted very suddenly and brimmed at the edges of her eyes but she dried them quickly, trying to remain firm, finding the courage to be as blunt as he had been, "I want you Erik," he shook his head with a brooding stare and a grim mouth, "and you wanted me. Or do you think I've forgotten your words on the last night I saw you?"

"I was a beast to you; you must forget everything I said, I meant none of it."

"You meant it when you said, 'a monster wants you'." She noticed how he seemed to blush and lock his jaw, his gaze hardened again and he stared at her stoically, the man she remembered poked through the surface, a strong calm overcame her, she repeated his words, "do you know how much _I_ want _you_?' you asked me. Those were _your_ words. And I _don't_ know Erik, I don't know because _you_ will not let me, and you will not let _yourself,_" she sighed heavily, "and I don't know if I can take this any longer."

His eyes sliced up to her, serious, angered, mostly frightened at what she suggested, "what are you saying Christine?"

She did not answer, she just stared at him.

* * *

**Uh oh... Christine isn't letting herself be controlled anymore, I think we all know that this means some awesome mayhem is going to ensue in a world where men control all of society, get ready France! **

**So review and tell me if you love her taking the wheel, because I sure do! SO WHAT DO YOU THINK CHRISTINE MEANS? **


	27. All I Ask of You

**Chapter XXVII**

"What are you saying Christine?"

She did not answer, she just stared at him.

For a long moment Erik swore that he could hear footsteps from the Opera House. It was so silent. He was not even breathing any more. He simply held his breath and watched her with anger stirring in his chest.

"Are you suggesting that you will leave me?" He did not expect the anger in his voice.

"I am telling you that I cannot do this anymore, Erik," she shook her head at him, her gaze serious and intense, "I promised to never abandon you. I never would… but I understand that you see me as a child. I am not a woman to you-

"What is it that you want?" His temper flared now, "do you want me to see you as a woman, is that all?"

"Yes!" She threw her arms out to the ceiling in exasperation, "I have been kept here under a veil for too many years now and I've grown sick and tired of not having anyone to treat me the way I wish. And all because _you_ refuse to give me the freedom to seek out a companion!"

"Are you listening to yourself?" He asked, "You sound ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" She glared and moved until she stood directly in front of him, their chests almost touched, "I am ridiculous for wanting someone to love me like a woman and not like a woman to be kept a child?"

"You want me to love you like a woman?" He glared, "did you forget the monstrosity of my face? I am not a man Christine! I cannot treat you like a woman because I cannot even court you properly! This," he motioned at the mask, "is not what you deserve-

"You are a liar," she shook her head firmly up at him, "you want me Erik… you will not let me even be in the presence of Raoul de Chagny because you do not want anyone else to have me. You know... you know how I…" she couldn't get the words out. But he knew what she wanted to say, and it broke him.

"Christine," he lowered his voice to a tender tone and reached up hesitantly, and then brushed his fingers very lightly on her cheek, the one that was not bruised. Her eyes fluttered slightly, but her stare remained fixed to his own, "you are simply confused… you do not want this body. I am all that you have seen and-

"Why should that matter?" She asked, her breathing picked up, "I know how I sound. But the point of my initial statement was this…" she swallowed, unsure of what his reaction would be, "I promised to never abandon you. And I will not do that. But it is very difficult to care for someone as I care for you… to need someone the way I need you and have rejection tossed in my face at every turn.

"I cannot force you into anything you do not want. I speak to you so honestly because I realize that subtlety will get me nowhere. I may seem wanton, and perhaps desperate, but I do not care, I am not embarrassed to admit that I… want you. I have loved you—" his eyes bulged forward and he removed his hand as if she burned him, "and you have shunned me, rejected me… refused any affection I try to give to you. And so I stand here," she choked back tears, "telling you that I _love_ you. And you do not feel that for me, and that is fine, as hurtful as it is that is fine. I cannot change that. But I will find a way to stop loving you the way I do Erik," her gaze was firm, "I will do whatever I have to do to not feel as lonely as I do."

She_ loves me… she _loves_ me! She loves _me_. And she stands here suggesting that I do not love her… thinking that I would have the will to let her frolic to the hands of another man._

He found his voice quietly, "Christine," she looked away from him, "I wouldn't stand the sight of you in the arms of another man."

Her heart jumped in her chest and she blinked furiously at the tears threatening to fall, "then you would have my heart waste away after you, a man that does not want me, or love me-

"Do not say that!" he snapped harshly and grasped her chin firmly in his hands, she stared at him stubbornly, flames flickered in her stare, "do not ever say that!"

"Then tell me that I am wrong!" She cried out, "do not let me stand here practically in tears for you and command me to stop saying what you have never had the courage to refute! Tell me that I am wrong Erik, tell me and I will silence all doubt from my mind!"

He stared at her with a wide and intense gaze. Both breathed intensely, and her chin remained firmly fixed in his grasp. She had changed so much… she had grown to be so much like him, and yet so different. She had the same brute force of words that he had always used with her, but she had the courage to throw specific ones at him. She had tenacity and fire, all things he had unknowingly instilled in her. But most importantly she had passion, and that was what was breaking all the walls he had built between and around them.

The room spun and a throbbing started at the side of his head, his palms grew hot and the back of his neck felt as if though flames were burning the hairs there. "I do not deny it." He whispered out harshly.

Christine jerked, almost taken aback.

"I never wish to hear you make light of my emotions for you again," his serious tone made a chill shoot down her spine, and his amber eyes blazed down at her, "I cannot watch you love someone else."

"I never could in a world where you were still around," Christine stated, afraid to move away and afraid to remain so close to him. The way he towered over her made her feel overwhelmed, but pleasantly so.

"But Christine," he shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes with hers even as she frowned at him now, "you must understand that… to… to make _love_ to you—" he whispered the words so faintly that she struggled to hear them at all, "that is not a topic we ought to discuss right now. There are other things more important than whatever it is that you and I feel for one another. Even with this admission-" _an admission that still burns my heart in the best of ways, "_I cannot properly have you. I am not a proper man Christine, I am not a gentleman… I would be rough and I would hurt you. And do not think I am talking about the joining of a man and a woman. I am talking about everything. I am hardly a _man_."

"Then are you a woman?" She snapped at him, his eyes darkened, "stop with your poetic nonsense and speak clearly Erik."

"I cannot have you!" He pulled away from her, scowling at his feet, "it is wrong. I will not know what to do with you! Am I to take you in the night and go on as things were before this and before you saw my face? Am I supposed to love you and be comfortable to hold you and bare myself to you when I know that this-" he gestured to his mask, "will always come between us to hide what I really am."

"You are such a foolish man," she insulted him irritably; "you think that I care for what I saw? The only thing that frightened me was you! Even as I was being drugged and beat all I could think of was you! And not you as you yelled and went mad with fear of me! But you, as Erik and _not_ the Phantom of the Opera!"

His eyes sliced up to her then, wide and confused, "what did you call me?"

She licked her lips, "yes, I know that you are… he."

He removed his gaze with shame and said nothing for a long moment. He was certain Nadir was hearing everything, "and you would stay with me, even knowing that I am a man of such horror?"

Slowly she reached to him and placed her hand on his chest, the tension in his chest increased as she touched him, "yes… I would stay with you."

_An angel, she is an angel and I do not deserve her. But I have never been a selfless man. I have always been a monster; she has fallen in love with what I am completely. Why should I change now and pretend that I care for propriety when all I want is her?_

His ocher gaze slid down to her eyes, they were giving him more life than he'd had in his entire lifetime, "then I am yours."

The words caused her heart to change pace; _he has given himself to me. He will treat me as I have yearned for so long. He will let me love him as he deserves… _"and I am yours, only yours."

He released a small smile, it was melancholy, as if there was something to be sad about. He took her hands in his own and gently ran his thumbs over her knuckles, the skin there was so thin and velvety, so unlike his.

"There is something I must tell you," he said morosely, "it pains me. But you must know. It is your right."

She frowned and somehow feared that something had happened to someone in the opera house, but no, that couldn't have been the case.

"Nadir must be here, he would explain it better than I can…" he released her hands and strode out of the room, leaving her there with confusion.

Erik found Nadir in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and staring absently.

"We must tell her now," Erik stated firmly, his eyes were serious and grave. Nadir's dark eyes met that of the masked man's with confusion, "about how you found her. About how that beast dared to touch her."

The words made both their hearts clench, Nadir nodded firmly, "do you wish to be in the room?" Erik gave him an annoyed stare, "of course. Follow me." Nadir stated with dread and silently walked toward Christine's room.

**…**

Erik remained completely silent as Nadir explained all he had done to get her back and Christine interjected with what she suspected she had been doing at the same time. He felt irritated as he heard the narration, and only because he had not been the one to save her. Instead he had served only to spread word to prostitutes of whom she was. But the hero of the story was Nadir Khan.

Christine's face remained passive as Nadir told her the events. She sat on the bed with her hands clasped together, and occasionally she would look to Erik who stood in the dark corner of the room, watching with dread as Nadir approached what she needed to hear the most.

"When I got upstairs," Nadir stated quietly, not looking at her if not at his hands, he seemed to be wrestling with how to phrase it. The dark figure in the corner of the room could see the impatience on Christine's face, "I opened the door and found you and a man." Christine's eyes widened slightly, "you were unconscious, that much I could tell. And it makes sense now as you have told us that they had choked you until you lost consciousness," Hearing her retell the way they put their hands on her made him grateful that he had not sat next to her because he was certain that he would have frightened her with the look on his face. Erik clenched his hands at his arms tighter. He had cut himself three times already with his nails as they had dug into his palm.

He would end them all.

"You were sprawled, naked," Nadir whispered, Christine's eyes widened and her breathing became shallow, "and the man was…" Erik shut his eyes and swallowed, "touching you inappropriately."

Christine felt as if though her limbs had gone numb, again, "that… that cannot be true."

"You do not remember any of it do you?" Nadir asked.

"No, I do not," she shook and contained her tears, she would not do that to herself in all her stubbornness, "but… why would they do that to me, why would they use my body. I do not understand—

"They are filthy beasts," Erik hissed from where he stood with his arms crossed and his legs as well, "they will pay."

"What did I ever do to deserve such… humiliation?" Her voice became thick; her eyes searched Nadir's for answers, "why did God not protect me? What about my Papa why would he—

"I am so sorry," Nadir whispered, "I should have gotten there sooner. If I had just gotten there sooner-

"Do you know if he had me?" She croaked, standing, Erik's eyes bulged at her question, "what if I am with his child? What if… Oh God…" She put a hand to her stomach; Erik looked at her with fury. The thought of her carrying another man's child against her _will_ was so infuriating to him that he began to shake in earnest, "Nadir what if I am—

"He did not Christine, I am almost sure of it. When I got there he … I do not know how to put it. Just believe me when I say that I do not believe he…"

"I understand," she whispered, putting Nadir out of his awkward misery. The truth was that she did not understand.

"I am so sorry-

"It is not your fault Nadir, cease your apologies, you saved me and I am eternally grateful. To the both of you," she turned her eyes towards Erik as well, and then bit her lip tightly.

"I must go," Nadir stated quietly, "there will be patients looking for me. I will visit you promptly tomorrow Christine, but I am weary, and you must have some time to yourself."

"Yes," she agreed quietly.

Erik watched silently as Nadir pressed his lips tenderly to Christine's forehead, he then cast Erik a wary look. It was plain to see that Nadir did not believe Christine was handling the situation as properly as she should; Erik simply nodded, understanding the silent worry. And then they were alone.

She sat on the bed, fiddling with her hands, trying to find the strength in her to cry at the situation. She did not know that she could, and suddenly she felt guilty.

"What is on your mind Christine?" His question made her shake her head; she did not understand herself at this very moment.

"I do not understand Erik," he drew closer to her as she spoke, "I know I should be sad, and I know I should be sobbing… but I cannot find it in me to cry anymore," she looked up at him as he took a seat beside her on the mattress, "I know that I should be doing something, but I do not know what it is. And it makes me feel lost, confused and very sick. I worry that I have lost my mind," his eyes saddened, "is something wrong with me? Why is it that I feel so, empty?"

"Because you have not fully processed it yet," he guessed, "you do not remember what it is that happened, you can only try to make sense of images you will undoubtedly create to fill the gaps."

She thought about that for a moment and the more she thought the more confused she felt, "why would someone be so cruel Erik? I only wished to come home… How could I have angered them so much-

"It is not your fault," he admonished her thoughts instantly; "they drugged you against your will and tried to… rape you." The word burned through him.

"I still do not understand how one can do something like that to someone, where is the consciousness? How is one so cold and cruel to one who does not deserve it?"

"I have asked myself that for many years Christine," his voice turned dark, "and if you question it enough you will grow so angry at the lack of answers that the rage consumes you. And then you begin to hurt those you care for, as I hurt you."

"Do not blame yourself Erik; please I cannot bear to think that you'd feel guilty over something you could not control."

"It would not have happened if I did not react the way I did," he reasoned logically, "it is my fault."

"Do not do this to yourself," she shook her head sadly, "do not do this to me either. You must stop believing that you are in control of everything Erik, you are not. And it is insulting; you speak as though their actions were your fault and not their own. It was not your fault." She spoke with finality. Silence passed between them.

"You must rest," he whispered quietly. She nodded and blankly moved up the bed and crawled under the covers.

"Please don't go," she said quietly, "you do not mind staying, do you?"

"No, I do not…" he assured her and moved to sit on the bed and she lay slightly behind him. She reached forward and bravely took his hand in her own and shut her eyes without another word.

_My Christine, I am so sorry._

Minutes of silence passed. He stared at his legs absently, wondering what he was going to do with her now, and wondering how he would move on to treat her as a _woman_. He did not know what she meant by that, did that mean that she wanted him to kiss her? He was unsure of how to do that, he had never been kissed. He had certainly been touched before by prostitutes while he hid his face in the darkness. And he was not clueless as to how to please a woman, and he knew how sex worked. The whores of France had whispered plenty while they touched him rabidly… but she was _Christine_, and now she wanted to be treated like a _woman_. She hardly knew what that even meant, and he knew even less!

He looked to her and noticed that her face was emotionless as she simply rested her mind; she was not asleep, simply taking time for herself. A tear had slipped past her defenses, it struck him that she was trying to be strong but she shouldn't have to be.

Bravely he reached for her jaw and stroked it delicately. Christine did not open her eyes at all.

And so he sang, gently so that she might feel at ease, with a deep voice so that she may sink into a state of nirvana, suspended above all of the world's evils.

"No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears. I'm here nothing will harm you; my words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom, let me dry your tears. I'm _here_, with you beside you, to guard you and to guide you…" the words drifted as she tightened her hold on his hand. "Christine," he stated softly, lowering his face so that she might hear him better.

"Yes, Ange," she answered back, letting her eyes slide open. She could hardly see the white mask in the dim lighting, the candles had started to burn out, and the unmasked side of his face remained above her.

"I love you…" he whispered finally.

* * *

**:") FINALLY ERIK. **

**You guys can't kill me, that was not a cliffhanger... right? Wait, now I'm not sure. Ah well, HE SAID IT. HE FINALLY SAID IT! We all knew it, but he finally SAID it! YAY FOR ERIK! **

**So what did you think? Christine has quite a bit to deal with, it seems they have generally forgotten about Raoul, and she has to come to terms with what happened to her. And Erik has to think about whether he is going to be the Phantom, which Christine now seems to correlate with his more violent rages, and seek revenge, or will he be her Ange, and care for her instead. And he has the task of figuring out how to treat Christine as someone other than what she has been. He seems to be rather confused, and to be honest, I don't blame him. **

**So what did you think? :) Tell me tell me, did you think Christine did the right thing to be so assertive? What do you think Christine wants out of him now? **

**REVIEW! **


	28. Gifts & Visitations

**Chapter XXVIII**

The next two days passed with Erik watching Christine with a wary gaze. She hardly left her room and when she did it was only to ensure that he was still down there with her. Nadir came and spoke to her, asked her how she was feeling; if there was anything he could get her. She told him she was feeling well, a bit confused but she was grateful to be alive overall.

Erik had to hold in a scoff.

Every night since Nadir had told her of what had happened she had nightmares, she would wake in the middle of the night in a sweat and then reach across the bed to where he sat and touched his hand to make sure he was there with her. When he asked her what it was that she had dreamed about she just shook her head and remained silent, locking him out.

She was not fine.

There was one point however where she expressed more happiness then she had in a long time.

"Christine," he had told her the second day of her return, "I thought that you might want to know that I found something which you might enjoy."

"Oh?" Christine had sat up and ran a hand through her tangled hair, he resisted a smirk at how adorable she looked.

"Yes, come," he extended his hand and waited for her. When she set her hand in his he pulled her down the hallway carefully. She smiled at him with interest as he pulled her towards the piano and then past him. He brought her to the edge of the river and then she saw it.

There was a small kitten lapping at the water with fervor. Her eyes widened with shock and she looked to Erik, confused.

"It is yours. The cat must stop pestering me Christine, it follows me and I do not enjoy being followed and licked like food."

"Oh my goodness!" She shrieked wildly, the cat stiffened and turned it's eyes to the quickly approaching human. Christine scooped it up and hugged it gently, "she is perfect, oh she is perfect!"

Erik smirked, pleased, "you see, animal?" He addressed the cat now, "that is your owner, not I."

"She does not understand you Erik," Christine grinned, "or do you talk Cat?"

"She will understand if she knows what is good for her." He warned with a glare at the animal who licked Christine's hand. "If she becomes a problem I will escort her out."

"Escort her? Like a true gentleman!" Christine laughed and walked towards him. His body stiffened the closer she came, she was magnetic.

"Yes, I will put her out."

"Do not listen to him, my little one," she addressed the kitten who purred in her hands, "he would never do that to you."

"You think so... you really think so?" Erik questioned, glaring at the animal as it possessively stared at Christine, _I do not like that stare. Do not look at her like she is yours... damnable cat. I should have left you._

__"I know you would not." Christine grinned, "thank you for her, Erik. Truly."

"You are welcome Christine."

Snapping out of the memory Erik pressed down on the fountain pen and wrote another note.

Christine had been here for three days now. Things were becoming relatively normal once again. He heard her walking out of her room and continued composing.

"I wish to go to the opera house Erik, what do you think?" Christine asked him when she reached him. Every time she was so near to him it felt like he could hardly breathe. He had never even felt her hands upon him, they had only rested on his face, his chest, but the touches were so brief. And yet he found himself craving more. It was repulsive, he thought, that he should wish more when she had already given him so much.

"Why do you wish to go back so soon?" He wondered out loud, "do you find yourself bored?"

"No, I just…" she twiddled her thumbs and shrugged, "I was hoping to begin working on Don Juan. It really is a beautiful piece… I wanted to tell them that I was not missing."

"I do not think they will believe you," he murmured, pressing down on a key multiple times and listening o how it rung out, it was not the key he was looking for, it didn't match with the song, "do you feel ready to go up there?"

"I need to. I cannot wallow in my misery anymore, music is my therapy, you are at fault for that," she smiled at him. He raised a brow and resisted a smirk, "please Erik?"

"Christine, you are free to do as you wish," he told her simply, "if you wish to go up to the opera house and tell them of your return you are free to do so. Do you want me to walk you through the tunnels? I fear that you have still not memorized the way, even after all these years."

She ducked her head sheepishly, "please take me."

He nodded once and stood.

The ride across the lake was something she had missed. Watching Erik with mystified eyes as he rowed with powerful stroke and an easy balance was always… calming. It reminded her of days before everything had fallen apart.

When they had reached the mirror she stopped and took a deep breath. There was no one in the room.

"Are you certain you are prepared?" He asked, "you must not do this for Don Juan… they will not perform it without you. They have explicit commands to not cast anyone else in the main role."

"I am aware," she stated quietly, "I have not been here in a long time… it is simply a strange feeling that has come over me at being here once again."

"Do not fret, everything will be fine."

"Yes, thank you Erik, I will see you tonight."

"Have a wonderful day," he smoothly bid her farewell and started pulling the mirror aside. She smiled and waved and stepped through. She watched him as he nodded in her direction and shut the mirror.

Christine was certain he was still watching her from behind it. But she could only see her own reflection. Without wasting another moment she made her way out of the dressing room and towards the manager's office. The entire time people stared at her as if they were looking at a ghost.

…

"My God!" They cried, "you were gone!" they reminded her over, and over again, "where did you disappear to Miss Daae? We were so worried!"

"I had to take a vacation," she muttered quietly, "it was urgent. I apologize for my lack of warning but it was truly an emergency."

"No worries Miss Daae!" Firmin assured her, simply happy to see that she had returned, "we have worked on the set pieces relentlessly, we assumed that you would return to us and after hearing the rumors we thought of them as just that. We have lost a bit of time with rehearsals but we are certain that you will work towards perfection."

"Most certainly," she assured them with a bright grin, dazzling Andre in the process.

"Well then, I assume that we shall send for the dancers and the orchestra at this very moment! We have no time to waste!"

"Will they not be busy?" Christine asked, coming to a stand and brushing her hands nervously through her hair.

"They better not be," Andre warned, "I specifically instructed them to make no plans. We did not know that any of these rumors were true."

"Well… then I will be on the stage practicing until their arrivals." She smiled and bid them farewell before leaving that room and breathing a deep sigh of relief. This would be an easy day.

…

"Hide our sword now wounded knight! Your vain glorious gasconade brought you to your final fight for your pride, high price you've paid!" They all sang. Piangi scrunched his face up in distaste and frowned. She bit her lip, _you had better hope Erik does not catch you disapproving of his music Monsieur Piangi._

She opened her mouth, "silken couch and hay-filled barn, both have been his battlefield."

Piangi sang then, "Those-suh who tangle weeth Don Juanahh-

"No! No! No!" Reyer cried out furiously, his face had turned red now, Christine bit her laugh back. It reminded her of Erik, "Chorus! Rest, please. Don Juan, Signor Piangi – here is the phrase," he turned to his piano and tentatively demonstrated, "those who tangle with Don Juan. If you please?"

Christine, who sat beside Piangi looked to him with interest, Meg behind her leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the reddened man, "Those who have been_ tangling_ with Don JUAAN-

"No, no! Nearly- but no. "Those who Tan-Tan-Tan…"

Piangi went again, "Those who tangle with Don Juanah!"

Carlotta, who had also attended the rehearsal spoke up, Christine rolled her eyes, "his way is better. At least he makes it sound like music!"

Rage flared in Christine's chest and she stood furiously, suddenly overcome with the urge to slap the woman in the face, "Signora – would you speak that way in the presence of the composer?"

Carlotta's gaze skated to her and she released a hard scoff, looking at Christine up and down, Piangi's eyes widened at Christine, "the composer is not here. And if he were he I would—

"Are you certain of that, Signora?" Christine interrupted with a sharp hiss.

Everything was silent; Reyer stared at the petite woman with shock and Meg's eyes widened at the sight of her friend. Her face had gone pink with anger and her hands were clawed at her gown. She had never seen Christine like this…

"So, once again – after seven," Reyer tried to diffuse the tension. Christine plopped back into her seat with an annoyed stare out to the empty auditorium. "Five, six, seven!"

Piangi started, wrong again, "Those who've tangled with Don Juan!"

Everyone groaned and turned their backs to him with annoyance.

"Ah, piu non posso! What does it matter what notes we sing?" Carlotta cried out, standing up and glaring at Reyer's back as he hammered his hands down on the piano, the notes thundered throughout the auditorium.

"It is music, of course it matters what notes we sing!" Christine snapped, coming to a stand. Carlotta whirled in a fury and stomped up to the petite woman, everyone stared with alarm

"No one will know if it is right or if it is wrong. No one will _care_ if it is right, or if it is wrong!"

"Does that mean that we destroy a song because we are too lazy to sing it properly?" Christine's eyes widened and Meg came around and placed a calming hand on her friend's shoulder, what had gotten into her?

"Those who tangle with Don Juan!" Carlotta sang out in an awfully mocking tone.

"Stop ruining it!" Christine spit at her angrily as Meg tugged her backward and away from the woman with the fiery red hair, "the note is not whatever it was that just escaped you! Do your job!"

"Miss Daae!" Reyer exclaimed, shocked.

"Piangi," Christine turned to the plump man who stared at her sheepishly, "stand." He did as she said, "now follow along with me," she went to the piano with an authoritative stride and pressed her hands to the keys, struggling to remember the very little Erik had taught her from the piano, "those who tangle with Don Juan!"

She watched him as he took in the notes that she had played and the way she let it flow with her voice, "I think I understand," he whispered shyly.

"Follow along then," she nodded and started playing the intro, she did not do it right, but he could tell it was his cue to begin.

"Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets - you will have to pay the bill – tangled in the winding sheets!" The chorus started.

His mouth opened, "Those who tangle with _Don Juan_!"

"Yes, yes!" Christine clapped, grinning at Piangi who was beaming brightly at her, "that was it! Was it not Reyer?"

"Yes it was Miss Daae, thank you." He sounded relieved and moved his eyes to Carlotta who stood there with anger, "Miss Carlotta you should take note. That is how a song is properly sung, not with laziness and artistic freedom that was not granted to us by the composer. If you will not respect the piece you can get off my stage."

Her eyes widened with disbelief and she blanched for a retort, when she found none she simply went to her chair and took a seat. Christine beamed at Piangi.

"You did well," she complimented him.

"Thank you Miss Daae, you are truly an angel—

"Christine Daae!" The familiar voice made her frown, she turned very slowly and looked out to the auditorium.

Coming down the left aisle she saw a person, blonde hair, beautiful light eyes and a firmly fixed mouth. Carlotta came to a sharp stand again and moved to Christine's side, an indignant stare on her face at the sight.

The figure came up a stop and stared at Christine with annoyance, "I would have a word with you if you do not mind," Madame de Chagny stated.

…

Christine could hardly move her legs down the stairs. She could hear the whispers behind her, and Carlotta seemed to be unable to move either as Madame de Chagny completely ignored her existence and only stared at Christine.

She made her way down the stairs with an unsteady step and then stared at Madame de Chagny expectantly.

"I would rather have this conversation somewhere more private." She said stiffly.

Christine nodded and followed her. They moved towards the back of the auditorium, and she kept wondering if Erik was watching her, she hoped not, that would mean that he was probably trying to figure out how to keep her from following the harsh blonde woman who had hurt her so horribly in the past.

But today was a new day.

Christine stopped when they reached the lobby and simply stared at Raoul's mother.

She had aged; she did not look weary, if not just stony. The grace had not left her completely, but she looked sterner then when Christine has last seen her, and yet the icy beauty remained.

"I see you are not missing after all," Madame de Chagny started, looking at Christine's slightly puffy eyes carefully, "what is that? A wound?"

"It is none of your business," Christine replied curtly, "and I had to take a vacation."

"That is not what I heard," she disagreed, "my son has been looking for you relentlessly. I told him that he should come to check if you were here but he told me that you would not be on the stage this soon if you had indeed returned. I disagreed and came, and the first thing I hear is your voice, scolding Carlotta."

Christine did not know how to respond to that so she simply stared.

"It would seem that you have changed that mild and meek demeanor you seemed to have. Have you finally grown weary of men's antics?"

This surprised the brunette, "I have simply decided that it was time for a change. I must rehearse, forgive my honesty but what is it that you are here for? The last time I saw you was when I was a child and you made it horribly clear that you wished nothing from me."

The blonde woman smirked at the petite brunette and narrowed her gaze, "it seems I was wrong about you Christine Daae."

"How so?"

"I discouraged my son from chasing you, or at least I tried. I was convinced that he would burn out your fire, and it seems I may be wrong, perhaps you two would be a good match."

"He and I are nothing to one another except acquaintances. I have made that very clear to your son."

"He loves you," Madame de Chagny stated firmly, Christine's gaze flickered and wavered, "he does not know why but he knows he has to have you. He will ask for your hand in marriage you know."

The thought made Christine look away.

"Imagine yourself, the next Vincomtess… Miss de Chagny, a beautiful white wedding-

"Are you trying to convince me that I should marry your son? I am not going to do that," Christine stated firmly, "and I am tired of standing here talking of trivial matters. Raoul de Chagny is nothing but an acquaintance and I do not wish to marry him, do not worry, your fortune is safe from my baseborn grasp. I will remain working for the money I have instead of walking around a house, pregnant with nothing to do. He had Carlotta for that," Miss de Chagny's eyes widened, "he had her and he threw her away because he thought so arrogantly that he would have me. I am not his, I am my own, and he will never change that. You can go now. You can go and inform him!" Christine whirled in a flurry but the blonde's hand came out and grabbed her elbow tightly. Christine stiffened at the contact and yanked her arm away, "do not touch me."

"What happened to you?" Miss de Chagny asked with a soft tone, her eyes widened when Christine glared at her, "something happened to you."

"Do not pretend to care."

"I… I just don't know…" the woman paused, confused, "you are not the same Christine Daae. You have flourished… what happened to you. No woman with a heart as meek as yours changes without a hard experience."

Christine scoffed and looked away with annoyance, "Madame de Chagny," she started, "what happened to me should not concern you. Even if I told you it would mean nothing to you. Know that my experiences have taught me that I must get what I want with dedication and passion not with mild manners and a weak voice. Your son wishes to have me and dismisses my disinterest in him. He is pompous, and snobby, and he thinks that he should have things not because he wants them but because you hate it."

"Do you think I do not know that?" His mother hissed, "I've known it for a long time now. But I realize that whether I praise you or condemn you he will chase you. He is truly in love with you! I cannot pretend to approve of his attraction to you but I cannot bear to watch my son in misery. So put him out of it!"

"I have tried! I have tried to get him away from him but you have a very hardheaded child. He will not leave me!" Christine yelled.

"How dare you!" Madame de Chagny growled at her, "have you a new man? Have you been sleeping with someone and now think yourself a woman?"

"I do not need a man to remind me that I am a woman," Christine sneered, "I have come to the conclusion that all I need is my music. And your son could never provide me with the happiness I have found within sheets of paper and an angel. Get out of here. Now!"

"Do not raise your voice—

"Get out of my home!" Christine yelled. The woman jumped backwards and started heading for the exit.

Christine shook wildly as the woman disappeared from her view.

She had suggested that Christine had… slept with a man like some sort of …

She shuddered and collapsed backwards against the wall, clenching her fingers tighter into her scalp, breathing harshly in and out. Her eyes watered and she slid down along the wall. She wanted to chase after the woman and beg for forgiveness, but again…

She felt no remorse, she felt hollow.

Christine's breath became short and she pressed her head against the wallpaper behind her, struggling to breathe properly. The thoughts of Jonathan above her, the needles in her arm, the rush of the morphine and the horror she had been informed of came back to her.

She had started having dreams, she imagined that Erik was told of the events and that in a rage he choked her, asking her how she could betray him like that. How could she be so stupid? And then she'd hold him, to try and ease his agony, and he would not return the embrace, he would shiver away from her, disgusted.

And then she'd wake, and touch him to ensure he was there and that he'd respond to her, and he would. Erik would take her hand and brush his fingers over her knuckles and ask her if she was alright. Every time she woke she found him sitting beside her, never truly sharing the bed. She hypothesized that it made him uncomfortable.

She thought of Erik, of his calming hands and his voice, of his singing and of his heart. She loves him. And he loves her. That was all that mattered, even now as she remembered the twinkling in his eye when he had said it… it made her heart thunder marvelously against her ribs.

Christine bit her bottom lip tightly and came to a shaky stand.

She had to do something about Raoul de Chagny, she just didn't know what.

As she walked back towards the stage she ignored the staring, she wondered if they had heard everything? She hoped not.

Then she decided very quickly what it was that she wanted to do, she would meet Raoul. As soon as rehearsal was over she sent him a letter to meet her tomorrow, in the park he had taken her to when she was younger, in the early afternoon.

Yes, she would meet Raoul. In a public place to ensure that he did not try anything inappropriate, and there she would tell him that she belonged to another.

* * *

**Madame de Chagny: You! How dare you-**

**Christine: AINT NOBODY GOT TIME FO' DAT!**

**Damn Christine, slapping people with your words left and right. Time to set Raoul straight? I think so.**

**...So what did you all think? **

**What do you hope will happen with Raoul and Christine? Even I'm not sure but I think I have an idea of how it will go ... so tell me what it is that you want! :) And poor Erik? He's starting to really lust, and he feels bad about it :( tis kay Erik, tis kay. Poor Christine, she's harboring everything inside O_O. **

**REVIEW!**


	29. Capture

**Chapter XXIX**

"Are you sure about this Erik?" Nadir's voice was forced through his teeth as the cod air whipped around them. Erik had left Christine to her rehearsals and when she had entered the lair she told him she had to speak to him, there was an urgency in her voice that worried him.

"What is it Christine?" he had asked as he turned to her. She looked so gentle and soft, he wanted touch her face, he needed to know the texture of her skin. But he'd never know such pleasures, as long as she was beside him this would always be enough.

"I must go see Raoul…" her whisper was so quiet he hardly heard her. And then a chill sank into him at the thought of her with that… boy. He could see it now, Raoul de Chagny embracing her, wooing her, telling her that she deserved better. Christine nodding along to his words, in agreement… and finally the fate sealing kiss that would tear her away from him.

"What?" Erik's voice was deadly in the silence. Christine nervously bit her lip as she fidgeted with the ribbon of her blue dress. Erik turned to face her from the piano, his golden eyes bright with outrage and confusion, "have you lost your senses?"

"Erik I must talk with him. His pestering must come to an end at some point and you most certainly did not frighten him enough to make him stop; now I must take action."

Slowly, very slowly, Erik stood to his full height. Christine shivered as he stared down at her, "and what do you suppose he will do? Do you believe that he will behave like the gentleman that he is and simply apologize and leave you and I in peace?"

She blinked down at her feet, and shrugged subtly, "I imagine that he would fight it at first. But eventually he will relent. Please do not fight me about this," she begged and placed a hand on his sleeve gently. She noticed a slight shiver run through him.

His ghostly eyes stared blankly at her for a long while before it seemed he grew weary of trying to figure out ways to stop her without physically restraining her. His shoulders slumped and his expression became morose.

"Do not worry, Ange," she smiled softly and took his hand shyly into her own. His skin felt cool to the touch and the skin felt thin, it was fascinating "I will be right back to you after I speak with him tomorrow."

"You must," he murmured quietly and raised his eyes to her own, his quiet mutter made her want to embrace him, but she did not dare, "you must always return to your Erik."

Christine smiled and resisted the urge to pop onto her toes and press her lips to his cheek. That would be horribly indecent, so instead she smiled at him.

"I shall be leaving for the night," Erik then told her, "I will return before you are awake. I have to go and fix certain things on the stage."

"Erik," Christine laughed as she pulled away, his hands felt cold then, "you must stop being so stubborn, let them do things as they wish."

"They will not ruin my play Christine. Goodnight."

And with that he had left to the stage hurriedly and then out the main doors where met Nadir outside.

"I am certain I want to do this Nadir. There is nothing else to do after all." Yes, Erik wanted this more than anything else, this would give them peace. Christine would never again have to worry about anything ever again.

Nadir sighed and nodded before walking down the empty streets of Paris with a Phantom at his heels.

Mostly they traveled in silence; Nadir struggled to contain the trembles of fear coursing through him.

When Nadir asked, "What do you plan to do?" Erik did not respond. Nadir found this even more horrifying.

It was not until they were in front of the alleyway that Nadir finally seemed to snap out of whatever slight calm he had and instead became panicked. His eyes darted around wildly as Erik moved ahead of him and strode towards the door with a knife in hand.

"Erik, let us think about this!" he tried to reason, "perhaps it is best that the police handle it!"

"There is nothing to think about," his voice was darker now, no longer monotone, "I will have their hearts on a mantel before they harm her again," he said it like a solemn promise; "they will never touch her. This must be done before the sun rises. Christine will wake up by then and I must be back. She shall be worried and I do not wish to cause her stress."

Nadir swallowed and moved closer to Erik.

Erik looked down at the doorknob and smirked, this would be easy. He pulled out a thin needle like object and then another. It slid into the door easily and he then made quick use of the wooden frame by pounding his shoulder into it.

Nadir looked around with cautious eyes for anyone who might have seen them, but the streets and the alleyway remained empty.

The door gave way and opened quickly. Nadir moved in front of Erik with his weapon raised and looked around the dark room living room with apprehension…

"There is no one here… they've gone."

"No," Erik growled out, "I hear them. They are here."

"I hear nothing Erik you are imagining things!" Nadir hissed as Erik blended into the dark like the Phantom he was. He moved through it like silk along water. Gliding effortlessly and seeing as Nadir remained blinded.

He could hear them! Someone was in the room on the same floor as himself and Nadir… he could hear the breathing… it was heavy, labored.

Erik moved towards what he realized was the kitchen. It was dark, and the only light was that of the moonlight slightly filtering in through a dusty window. In the center of a room there sat a heavyset man with his head on a round table. He was asleep.

Nadir moved clumsily through the kitchen and towards where he caught sight of the white mask.

Erik moved behind the man and analyzed his body. He was too big. He would not be able to move him all the way to the opera house. He'd kill him here. He could already feel the adrenaline pushing through his heart, the fading of all other thoughts except for the one that reminded him of what they had done to her.

He pulled out his rope from his sleeve and moved up to be closer to the large man. Erik easily, swiftly, slid the rope through his head and pulled tightly.

"Allah!" Nadir shrieked with terror as the large man woke with a gasp and collapsed off his chair. Erik dug his knee into his spine and would not relent. He bared his teeth and pulled tightly, growling at the man writhing on the floor, "Erik just end him!" Nadir begged, the rope was coiled three times in Erik's pale hand and he was pulling so hard that he was certain the tension would cause the rope to snap, "Erik end it!"

"No, no, no, no!" Erik stated manically as the man struggled and rasped and gasped and choked, "he will pay dearly for touching her. No one touches _her_!" Erik hissed in the dark. Nathaniel's eyes bulged forward and his face began turning purple. Erik pulled tighter with just enough pressure to keep him alive. The exhilaration that coursed through him was alleviating a pressure at his chest and replacing it with a new one, "do you know who I am?" Erik growled in the man's ear as he pressed his knee into his spine.

"_Guurrlkk!"_ Was the only response he received.

"I am _hers_," he whispered harshly above the man as Nadir quaked with terror, "and you have hurt the only woman who has ever mattered. Miss Daae, you know her—

_"K-kkk-ccc_—

"Erik just end it! There is another in the house!"

"You are lucky," Erik told the man and pulled so tightly that the man's chest came off the ground while the knee remained crushed to the bottom of his spine, "you will die tonight and not a week from now…"

_"Guurllkkk_—

"You are the worst of men… as am I. But I would never, in a million years force myself upon a woman who does not want me," Erik laughed then as the man's eyes swelled forward, "not that they would have me."

With that Erik jerked the rope back with so much force that a crack resonated and all of the movement beneath him ceased.

Nadir stared with horror, _he broke the man in half… why did I bring him, what was I thinking?_

Erik stood from where he was a looked down at the body with interest, "he was hardly a battle. I imagine the other will put up more of a fight."

"Do you want them to?" Nadir whispered harshly, he could not remove himself from the body which lay twisted awkwardly on the floor, he looked twisted at the hips, and his face was horribly purple, his tongue hung out of his mouth, bloated it appeared, and blue.

Erik's amber eyes skated up to him and he released a sound akin to a scoff, "of course not Nadir, but these things never end so easily."

Nadir shook his head and glared at Erik, "must you speak and spit such horrible phrases."

"Of course Nadir," Erik rolled his eyes and uncoiled his rope from the neck of the men beneath him, "they must know why they die."

Nadir rolled his eyes now and then led Erik towards the stairs. Erik's thoughts began to grow more angry the further he went up the steps. He could envision Christine struggling as she was forced up the stairs, and the guilt gave way to self loathing and inevitably to rage.

Erik resisted the urge to push past Nadir as the Persian blindly found the doorknob and then twisted…

Upon entering the dark room it was clear that Nadir was struggling to see. He squinted and wouldn't move from the doorway. Impatiently Erik slid past him and then stopped as he eyes landed on the bed.

"This is going to be much easier than I thought," his voice was ominous and foreboding..

On the bed lay a blonde male, dazed and sleepy with needles at his side. His eyes flickered and he lay limply, unmoving and unaware of the eyes on him.

Nadir shook his head, "do you not plan to kill him here?"

"Of course not," Erik stated coming the blonde's side, "he's coming with me."

**…**

Christine had woken up to the sound of Erik playing the piano. The sound was so soothing that she lay there for a while just listening to it. Eventually however she did come to her feet and meet him where he sat… he seemed a bit tense but she knew that it was because today she would be seeing Raoul.

The entire walk towards the park was one of apprehension and nausea. Christine knew that Erik did not like this idea, and she was even more certain that after he left her at the mirror that he had run up the opera house to watch her from the roof, ensuring that she made it out of the opera house safely.

The truth was that without the safety of Erik's _presence_ Christine felt unsure. The closer she came to the park the harder her heart beat. Then the paranoia began to sink in. What if Raoul did not show up? What if Raoul tried to do something to her? What if Raoul did not accept to leave her alone and insisted pursuing her? What would she do?

Even worse, what would Erik do?

It was not until she entered the park that she realized for the first time that she had to be calm and not allow anyone to see how nervous she truly was. How would Raoul take her seriously if she did not sound as confident about this as she felt? With that in mind Christine searched with her eyes for the hazel eyed man.

She found him standing by a willow tree. His back slightly towards her and his eyes were turned towards the river. His blonde hair was swayed very lightly in the wind; the curls would come undone and spring back into their formation so much like her own.

It was as if Raoul sensed her very suddenly because he turned his head suddenly and saw her. A grin tugged at his mouth and he began running at her with haste.

She looked impossibly gorgeous, her eyes were the color of the frigid sky above them, and her full lips were pink with the cold, as were her cheeks and her nose. He could not believe the sight of her, and could control himself from doing anything but running at her. She was alright! She was safe… He had been so worried! And yet here she was, stunning, beautiful! The satin blue dress complimented her flesh so boldly that it appeared to him that every man was staring at her. And indeed they were!

"Raoul!" Christine gasped as he stopped in front of her and pulled her tightly to his chest. She stiffened against the length of his body and tried to not make a show out of trying to release herself, "Raoul what are you doing!" She could hardly breathe and people were staring with shock at the indecent embrace.

"Christine, my dearest Christine," he said feverishly, his hands clutched her tightly and for a long moment all he could do was breathe in her scent, "you have been gone! I have missed you-

"Release me Raoul!" Christine exclaimed with annoyance, _who did he believe himself to be? _

Raoul pulled back away from her with indignation and frowned down at her. She was staring up at him tensely, her vibrant blue eyes held no warmth or regard for him. He tried to not feel offended and instead swallowed the lump in his throat, "forgive me. I forget myself."

"Yes you do," she muttered tensely, "I must speak to you. It is of the upmost importance and I need to return home. Where can we talk that is a bit more private?"

Raoul stared down at her with confusion. She was behaving as coldly as the air that surrounded them, he decided to lighten the mood by talking to her of her passions as he led her towards the stream of water.

"When is your next performance?" he asked her with interest.

"In four weeks." She said, her voice sounded less stressed, "everyone is working diligently to make it as perfect as it can possibly be. It will be a night to remember, the score is beautiful."

"I will have to come and see you then," he smiled and shivered at the wind that blew, "do you have to practice very often?"

"Yes," she nodded with a small smile, "all day."

"That sounds stressful."

"I strive towards perfection."

"I do not think you can be anymore perfect then you already are," he looked down to her and frowned, there was no blush in her cheeks at his statement, just the tension between her eyebrows, _what has gotten into her? _Raoul wondered as they finally reached the stream of water,_ she looks as though she were unhappy with me, and I have done nothing to her at all!_

Finally they came to a stop. The memory of her burned so freshly in his mind that he couldn't keep the slight annoyance alive within him. She still had that same blue flame that he found so horribly refreshing.

"Raoul," Christine started and moved her hand out of his, she swallowed, "we must talk."

"Yes," he agreed, his hazel eyes burning down at her, "where were you Christine?"

She raised a brow, "what do you mean?"

"You were missing; Nadir Khan came to me and told me. I was so worried; I thought that I was never going to see you again. And then I get a letter from you yesterday… I did not know what to make of it but I had to come and see that you were alright. What happened to you Christine?" His eyes became sad, "I was so-

"I would rather not talk about things that do not pertain to the subject at hand," her voice was softer then she had intended it to be. His worry was endearing… but the subject of what had happened to her was nothing that she wished to discuss, "I must ask you to stop this… pursuit of yours," she raised her eyes to his hazel ones, "it is a very dangerous game you are playing."

"Dangerous?" Raoul looked flabbergasted.

"There are bigger things at hand then just you and I Raoul. You must ask for Carlotta's hand in marriage or find a woman that loves you," she swallowed and clasped her hands as the words became more difficult, he was staring at her with such a sadness that she felt as though her heart were being stomped on. She continued, "I do not return your affections."

"How can you… what are you talking about, Christine? You ask me to stop caring for you? And loving you? And for what! So that you may please your madman and so that you may be locked away forever? Do you think I can live with that knowledge?" His eyes bulged and the wind blew her hair into her face, she removed it and stared out to the water, "you think I would let you waste away wherever it is that you live?"

"I really do not care Raoul," she turned her eyes to the stream of water and frowned, "I am not yours. You are not mine."

"We should belong to one another," his tone of voice irritated her. He spoke as if it were a fact! "We cannot be apart-

"You are obsessed-

"Just as _he_ is obsessed with you." Raoul bit back sharply, she turned her cold gaze on him, "you do not know the man with whom you are dealing, Christine. You simply have no idea of the… the monster that he is-

"Do not insult him Raoul, or you will find that I can be more of a monster than you have ever seen," while her threat might not have been true it was enough to get him to think twice before insulting the man by comparing him to a monster.

Raoul stepped forward with slow steps as if he were afraid that she would back away from him. When she did not he tentatively reached out and took her hands tightly in his own, she made a small jerk to take them back but failed. His voice was low and warning, "he is not who you think he is Christine."

"I know exactly who he is, and he knows me, do not tell me that I-

"He is the Phantom of the Opera Christine!" Raoul cried out and released her hands as if they were painful to the touch, "do not dare mock me once again! He is a man of nightmares! He is obsessed with you! And do not confuse it for love all he wants is your voice to carry out his own music. He is not worthy of having _you_ sing his music!"

Christine did not know what to reply to that, so she decided to deny, "Phantom? My goodness Raoul you must stop-

"I love you," he choked out, he ignored the bulge of her eyes and then the rapid fury, "and you are living with a man who would kill you as easily as he has killed others in the opera house."

She shuddered at that. The thought of Erik killing, again, was not appealing in any context. And she had witnessed those killings; she had seen the way he would so gracefully sweep around the air as if it were no difficult task to take a life.

"Christine let me take you away from all of this," he reached for her delicate hands. Christine jerked them away before he could grab her this time and glared at him. He looked as if though he were on the verge of tears, "marry me."

_What?_

It seemed that time stopped for a long period. Christine blanched and almost choked as she stuttered out a strange sound from the back of her throat. _What had he just said? Did he just propose to me?_

"Please, marry me." He begged her quietly, and suddenly dropped to one knee and took her hands. Christine's heart stuttered as he stared up at her with adoring, loyal eyes, hazel, not amber, kind not mysterious and confusing, not dangerously forbidden.

"Raoul please stand," she begged and tugged at his arm, looking around nervously. She realized people were staring at them with interest. Raoul did not move, he just gripped her hands with more desperation, "Raoul! Stop this! I do not love you!"

"Marry me now Christine!" He exclaimed and came to a stand, towering over her figure, "marry me… marry me or… or I will harm him."

Her heart stopped. She could not believe what had just left his perfect mouth. Raoul glared down at her lost expression fearlessly, "w-what are you-

"You heard me correctly." He snapped with impatience. He was growing weary of her ignorance. She was living with a madman and he would save her by force if necessary, "I will somehow find him and I will throw him into a jail cell for the rest of his life if you do not agree to come with me-

"I am not yours!" She cried and slapped him on the chest. She heard murmurs but did not care. She was too angry! _He has threatened Erik! He has threatened all my happiness but more importantly Erik's life! He has lost his mind! _"You animal! How dare you threaten him! He is a good man and he has done nothing but care for me-

"You went missing!" Raoul exploded and grabbed her fiercely by the arm. She stiffened very suddenly, "you foolish woman! He will end up killing you just as he has killed others! I will not have you gallivanting with some monster! I care about you far too much!"

"Unhand me you stupid boy!" She hissed angrily and yanked her arm away. Raoul glared at her and reasserted his statement as she huffed and puffed.

"You will marry me, or face another gravestone. I expect your answer in three weeks. That would have been ample time for you to think and prepare whatever it is that you must take with you to my home. I know you will make the right decision."

"If you think I will marry you then you have not only lost your mind but you are a lost cause," she sneered with a small twinkle in her eye, "I am _his_. Everything I am is a part of him, and everything he is _is_ a part of me. I will never abandon him for someone as pompous as you. I would never marry into a family as infuriating as yours. I am not _yours_."

"We will see about that," Raoul glared, incensed by her statements, _how dare she? She thinks that this is some sort of game, that I will simply let her walk out of my life when I know that he has killed. She is alright with it it seems, but he is a murderer and she thinks that is safe!_ "By the time this is over you will be my wife, in my roof, in my bed—

Her hand crashed violently down no his face and he gasped with surprise and clutched his red cheek. The slap burned more than the freezing wind.

"I _despise_ you." She spit roughly and turned, marching off and away from him with disgust. Leaving him embarrassed and shocked, fascinating and more enthralled with the chase than ever.

**…**

It was perfect. This was exactly what he had in mind when he began its development, but never did he think it could be so beautifully elaborate. It would have been built faster but living with Christine made it difficult. It left him to work only when she was rehearsing. He would never hope for her to find this… he did not wish to keep things from her, but he had needed it, and now it was more necessary than ever.

Even if he screamed she would not be able to hear it, he was a master architect. He knew sound. Therefore he took great precautions to block out all noise from their lair.

Erik ran his finger over the blades hanging on the walls. Each was designed for a specific purpose; he had kept them away from Christine's eyes. They were sharp and clearly used for some sort of evil craft… and as much as he would have liked to believe that he would never again need them there came a time for everything.

They had harmed her. They had used her and destroyed everything he had tried to build for her, a world of goodness.

And that had awakened something within him. Light was snuffed out from him the night she had been returned broken and bruised. He wished he had the strength to stay away from them, but he did not. Ultimately they had to pay.

"I'm so sorry Christine," he murmured and ran his finger over the edge of the recently sharpened blade. The hilt was carved out of wood, smoothed perfectly for his hands, with grooves for a stable grasp.

_You never have to know of this, my angel of music, _he thought as he examined the tip.

A moan sounded through the air, Erik looked up to the chair and resisted a smirk as he neared the blonde male there. He was just waking up. This was good.

Jonathan's eyesight was blurry beyond all comprehension. He could hardly make out colors. It occurred to him very quickly that he could not recall what had happened to him at all… where was he?

"Confused, are you not?" A cold voice came from everywhere. Jonathan let out a pathetic whimper and winced, his jaw felt sore. As he opened his eyes wider it occurred to him also that his hands were numb and so were his feet.

"_Guurk,"_ he struggled to speak. He almost gagged on the rope but choked it all back. Slowly his vision started to clear and he took in a tall figure in front of him, cloaked in black. He tilted his head back and frowned with confusion, he caught sight of a white mask but his sight was still not clear enough.

"I will enlighten you now and tell you that you friend… he is not here. In fact he is not with anywhere. I had to end his life. A pity really, I would have enjoyed ripping him apart so much…" the man sounded truly regretful, Jonathan's body seized, "but you see, the dilemma is very simply that I have to be swift. His weight would have prevented me from moving as swiftly as I needed to. I figured if I could not have the benefit of both of you I would make you pay in double for what I am owed."

"_Gurrk_!" His eyes stretched with fear and he rocked on the chair, trying to figure out a way to release himself. His pulse sounded through his head, but even worse he heard the sound of the man again, that voice!

"Oh, do not waste your vigor, you will run out of it soon enough my friend. But do not think that this means death. That would be much too merciful for one as malicious and disgusting as you…" the figure walked away and Jonathan blinked the blurriness away. He was in a room with stone floors. He was bound to a chair and when he looked up he noticed stone walls too.

He tried to turn his head towards where he had seen the black figure moving. But he found that he was alone in the room, it seemed as though he had been dealing with a ghost!

Jonathan screamed and screamed, hoping to God that someone would hear him.

Outside Erik strolled through the tunnels, he knew that the man had to be screaming. He swore he could hear it through the stone, it was a delightful sound.

_Now he is as frightened as she was, good. Let him suffer! He deserves this and much more, but that is to come… I must make sure that the offenses are balanced, or else how will anything ever be alright again? She has suffered and now he must endure as she. _ But still he wondered if this meant that things would be alright again.

As he approached the one that would lead him towards his lair he could hear the sound of light footsteps. Christine was just returning from her meeting with Raoul de Chagny, he knew. He sped his walk until he reached the very end of the tunnel and smiled as she walked past him without noticing him standing right there. She knew that there were other tunnels but she never caught sight of them though she passed them every day. Her eyes had not adjusted well to the dark, she always took in so much light when she was above ground.

He watched as Christine entered the lair, she looked around and called for him, "Ange? Are you home?"

_Yes… _he thought, but remained silent as she threw off her cloak with a huff and then placed her hands on her hips.

She really was quite lovely, he noted. She was small, dainty, she had a softly curved figure, and from this position he could see the delicacy of her figure. She was the complete opposite of him, and he could not help but feel himself stir at the sight of her… yes, a woman. She was a grown woman.

Very carefully he stepped out from the shadows and stood there waiting for her to notice him. It took at least ten seconds before she stiffened and whirled around.

"My God! Erik! You must stop that!" She placed a hand on her chest and another on a chair. He stepped forward slowly.

"Forgive me, I did not wish to frighten you."

"You never frighten me," she laughed at him and came closer, he watched with interest as she stopped in front of him and beamed, "you're an angel, how can you frighten me?"

He thought of the man tied in his chamber and did not respond. He wanted to know about what happened with Raoul de Chagny, "how did your meeting go?"

Christine smiled softly, "I shall tell you more of that later, I do not wish to speak of trivial matters. Know that Raoul will not be bothering us. I told him I do not wish to have anything to do with him, or his family. That you are the only family I would ever need… I told him…" She blushed sweetly and lowered her gaze.

She was not looking at him, and he was curious to know what she had said, she was blushing after all, "Christine, look at me." His tone was commanding.

She looked up nervously; his eyes bore into her, "yes?"

"What did you tell him?" Again she ducked her gaze.

Before he could stop himself his finger touched the bottom on her jaw and he raised her face to stare at him. Her skin thrilled him, and his touch sent small jolts through her… her skin was like a rose petal. He bent slightly so that his eyes were all she could see, "I expect you to answer me, Christine."

She blinked, embarrassed under the intensity of his stare, "I told him that you and I are one…"

He nodded, approving, and boldly let his long finger trace the outline of her jaw… she shivered under his touch so subtly that he felt he imagined it… _she's letting me touch her… _

"Yes, you and I are one, my Christine…" his eyes flickered up to her.

"Yours." She agreed with a swallow and a dazed nod.

Erik pulled his finger away from her jaw and clasped his hand behind his back as she gazed adoringly at him.

_Yes, _he decided then, trying to not touch her again, _we will be alright. _

* * *

**... YAY! NAY!?**

**Looks like there is a load of stuff going on... Erik has killed Nathaniel and captured Jonathan for what will obviously be torture... Raoul is threatening Christine... and Erik is pushing his boundaries. And he's clearly a bit conflicted because while he feels Christine would not approve he just feels that there has to be some sort of punishment for what Jonathan and Nathaniel did. **

**That was Chapter 29.. I like to do major plot line points when it gets to the multiples of tens. So, expect something :)!**

**THAT WAS ALSO THE LONGEST CHAPTER, so please give me feedback, I've been exhausted all day and hammered this out to the best of my ability. It is 1:47 in the morning and I'm literally tearing because my eyeballs are drying out from lack of sleep. Review? :) **


	30. Let my Opera Begin

**Chapter XXX**

"You must embrace her!" Madame Giry exclaimed as she passionately locked her arms around herself, "you must ensure that your arms then slide up and about her waist," she demonstrated by pointing to Christine's narrow waist, "and up to her chest," higher still, "and only then will she remove herself from you."

Nervously Christine bit her lip, "is it necessary for him to go that high?"

Madame Giry cast her an annoyed stare, "yes Christine, otherwise this is not going to have the passion that we are trying so hard to convey. Must we run this again?"

Piangi spoke up now, "Miss Daae will not let me get that close, it has been four weeks and still Miss Daae withdraws before I can get up that high."

"It is only because I am uncomfortable with it," she mumbled awkwardly and twiddled her thumbs as the rest of the cast members watched with curiosity, "after all this will be performed in front of so many people."

"Will we have to run it again?" Madame Giry asked with annoyance, "the performance is tomorrow Christine, will you be able to do it when the time comes?"

She nodded and bit her lip nervously. She did not have a choice but to do it, there was absolutely no backing out now.

That evening Christine made her way to the dressing room with a sorrowful stare. She could not pull off the scene, after so many weeks of practice she still jerked away from Piangi's touch in that specific scene. Everything else was fine, but when it came time for him to touch her breast, even for that short second, she could not find it in her to do bear it and jerked away before he got up that high.

Erik pulled the mirror aside and instantly she stepped within the darkness. She knew he had watched the rehearsals. There was no doubt in her mind that he was angry – how could he not be. After all everything they were performing was his music, it was all _his_! And _she_ was ruining it.

"Good evening Erik," she stated shyly as the lantern turned on and lit the tunnel.

"Good evening Christine," he nodded courteously in her direction and began to lead her down the tunnels silently. She raised a brow as she followed him, why was he not saying anything? "How was your performance?"

"It was a bit overwhelming," she admitted quietly, "Past the Point of No Return… I find myself struggling with the choreography. It is very difficult to simply stand there and allow a man I hardly know to touch me…"

He resisted the urge to growl at the thought, _imagine how difficult it is to watch it. _He knew of how she struggled. For the past four weeks Madame Giry's yelling filled the auditorium. He himself found himself growing slightly frustrated with Christine, but he knew how difficult it must be to have a stranger touch you. And so he tried ot have patience, with both her and himself.

There were parts of him that wanted to strangle Giry for decided upon such a vulgar choreography for Christine, but alas - it made the play work. And Christine must learn to handle things on her own.

"Did you not watch the way Madame Giry scolded me?" She asked him, there was a tone of suspicion.

"No," he admitted, though he would never truly tell her why. How does one explain that they had been bloodying their hands, "I was busy working on a song, finishing it."

"Have you titled it?" She asked and stepped into the boat with ease and then sat. Erik grabbed the paddles and pushed them away from the rocky land.

"Would you rather hear it when we've arrived? I can play it for you," his voice was as monotone as ever, but she swore she could detect a bit of hopefulness in his tone.

"Certainly," she agreed.

When they arrived at their home she instantly hopped off the boat with an unladylike grace and waited for Erik by the piano, ignoring his raised eyebrow at her little leap.

"Erik you are slower then a turtle!" She laughed as he gracefully moved the boat and then walked towards her. He stiffened when he looked at the piano.

"Get that animal off of my instrument," he ordered instantly. The kitten blinked at him with annoyance and Christine laughed and pulled the cat into her arms. Erik marched in front of her and lowered his gaze to the animal who purred in her arms, "do not ever come near my instruments again. This is the last time, you beast."

"Erik," Christine frowned and kissed the cats nose, "she is beautiful, not a beast."

"It will not defecate on my instrument!" He exclaimed and with a flurry whipped of his cape, throwing it to the bench of the organ and sitting down on the piano with an angry huff, "I grow weary of its little games."

"She loves you," Christine smiled and held the cat out to him, he looked at it, "she wants to be held by you."

He ignored the cat and raised his eyes to her with complete seriousness, "are you ever going to tell me what it is that Raoul de Chagny asked of you?"

Christine bit her lip. He had been very patient with her and allowed her to tell him on her own time, but she was so very afraid of what his reaction might be… "I cannot put this off any longer, can I?"

"No, you cannot," he surmised and patiently waited for her to explain what it was that she had never told him.

Carefully she set the nameless cat down and clasped her hands and stared down at Erik seriously, "he wants me to marry him."

At first he remained expressionless. He did not release any sound or any hint of what he might be feeling inside, she could guess however that there was a lot of anger.

"He asked for your hand in marriage?" Erik whispered quietly and lowered his gaze towards the piano keys, a look of extreme concentration on his face.

"Yes," she murmured quietly, noticing how his hand fisted and then he let them splay out on the keys. For a long moment all she could do was stare with nervousness… "you will not harm him, right Erik?"

He let his eyes flow up to hers.

She did not understand him.

He did not blame her. Of course she could not understand the fear in him at the moment. She had the opportunity to leave him forever for a rich, handsome, young boy. She had the opportunity to have everything every woman could have dreamed of. And at any moment at all she could leave him and Raoul de Chagny would rip her away. At any moment this could all happen. If for some reason Christine woke up and decided that Raoul had been right all along Erik would be powerless to stop her.

"Please say something Erik," she whispered, "I do not understand the expression on your face right now."

"May I play a song for you?" He murmured quietly, this would help her understand.

"Yes, of course…"

The song started it off with very light notes, and she raised a brow at this – Erik did not write very lighthearted music, but as soon as he opened his mouth and quietly sang her entire body stiffened. His voice was very quiet, and his eyes became far away, "the day starts, the day ends. Time crawls by…. Night steals in, pacing the _floor_. The moments creep, yet I can't bear to sleep… Till I hear you sing…" his whispery voice picked up then, "and weeks pass, and months pass, seasons fly. _Still_ you don't walk through the door!" Her eyes widened at the power of his voice and the obvious pain in his expression, but then his voice softened _again_, "and in a haze I count the silent days… till I hear you sing… Once more…"

"Erik?"

He did not hear her at all, he kept singing, hoping she'd just listen to _him_, "and sometimes, at nighttime. I dream that you are there, but wake holding nothing but the empty air…" her eyes watered, "and years come, and years _go_. Time runs dry. Still I _ache_ down to the core…! My broken soul can't be alive and whole, till I hear you sing, once more."

"Erik I am here now… do not—

"And music, your _music_. It teases at my ear," she backed away a step at how he growled his words then, "I turn and it _FADES AWAY_ and you're not here!" He raised his voice until it was suffocating her, "let hopes pass, let dreams pass! Let them _DIE_! Without you... what are they for…? I'll always feel no more than halfway real! Till _I!_ Hear you sing," he paused drawing a deep breath, "once more!"

Christine trembled where she stood with a hand over her mouth as he let his hand drift to his sides.

_How can one person be so beautiful? How could one person experience something as powerful as _that_ with just days of another's absence? _

"Erik, you must not feel that way anymore," she pleaded and ran up to him, not caring anymore and touching his shoulder. He shivered and let his face fall into his hands; he knotted his fingers into his hair and clenched his jaw, "I will never leave you. I _cannot_ leave you, you are everything to me," her lip trembled as she struggled to make him believe it, "I know how much you care for me Erik do you think I would harm you so much?"

"I know you would not," he spoke quietly, almost embarrassed by his impassioned singing, "I lost myself in the music, do not be frightened for me." He raised his eyes to her and then hesitantly touched the hand on his shoulder, trembling, "you denied him. I know this."

"Of course I did, he is a fool," she smiled, "a _slave of fashion_, as someone once declared so vivaciously."

He felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth and could nott help but to let out a dark chuckle, "do not tease me."

"Ignorant _fool_!" She declared in a poor imitation, "this brave young suitor! Sharing in my triumph!"

He winced, "do you really think that is what my voice sounds like? I would never have such a crackly tone."

"I resent that," she laughed and lifted her hand away from his shoulder, "but now I must rest. Tomorrow is Don Juan."

He nodded and sighed, "rest Christine…"

**…**

It was the night of the performance. Erik had left Christine in the dressing room to find his box. While the stage itself was beautiful he knew that once she stepped onto the stage it would fade into exactly what it was, a background. She was the centerpiece of the entire play.

Below him people took their seats with excitement, he caught sight of Nadir in the first row and rolled his eyes, he could have simply asked Erik for a private box, but of course - he had to be difficult.

Christine had been more excited for him then she was for herself. He imagined that she knew and understood how much this meant to him, and that meant more to him then he could properly put into words. For a long time all he could do was to think of his opera. He knew how it would stun Paris, and Christine would be fantastic.

In his box Erik had the most perfect view of the stage, and when the lights dimmed he settled back into his chair carefully and watched with anticipation as his music began to flow through the entire auditorium. His body was filled with a chill as the dark and brooding violins embraced all aspects of his hearing. In the crowd below him he noticed some people moving uncomfortably but remaining seated nonetheless.

The moment Christine graced the stage with her presence his eyes widened with appreciation at her beauty, she sang everything perfectly. It caused him to lean forward as if he wanted to hear her better. It was not that he needed to, after all - her voice was everywhere.

And when the first half of the show was done he was left breathless and the crowd applauded madly for his music and for Christine. He felt a surge of happiness and jealousy course through him as he remained anonymous. But mostly he felt happiness, and with that in mind he strolled out of his box and towards Christine's dressing room for the remainder of the intermission.

...

"I cannot do this," Christine whispered as she stared at herself in the mirror. All throughout rehearsals she had been nervously practicing _that_ song; Piangi remained respectful, hardly touching her at all. But this was the actual performance; he _really_ had to touch her.

The first half of the show had gone well, there were flirtatious stares and a lot of silly frolicking, but now came the more serious part of the play and she was not certain that she could do it as well as Erik, and Madame Giry, expected.

"Christine," Erik's silky voice came from behind her.

"My God! Erik you must stop that " She scolded him and placed a hand over her heart. She tried to keep her breathing calm and stared at the unmasked side of his face with apprehension, "did you enjoy the first half of the play?"

He said nothing at first, and then slowly strolled forward from the wooden panel he had sneaked in through, "enjoyment does define what I felt. You were spectacular." She smiled at his praise, he noticed how she trembled, "you have not been nervous throughout the rehearsals and now you –

"I do not want him touching me," she whispered and nervously struggled to put on the bracelet, "things have changed. And I must pretend to be calm before all these people who have spread more rumors about Raoul de Chagny and I then I can count."

"Ignore them."

"And this is your music," she sighed as the bracelet clasped on, "I do not want to disappoint you and not do it the justice it deserves."

"You can never ruin it," Erik stated seriously and slowly glided forward, "you have the skill and practice. Do not let me down."

Slowly Christine turned to face him and nervously smoothing out her hair, "Raoul will be in the audience, I just know it."

His eyes darkened the slightest bit. _Would the boy dare to show his face? After all he did?_ Erik released a hard breath.

_I grow weary of his games as well, _he thought as Christine stared at him and then turned to face the mirror, fixing her hair, _he wishes to rip her away… this cannot happen. I will never allow that to happen…_

"You are Christine Daae," slowly his hands came down on her shoulders, "you will not fail."

"Yes, I must remember that… there is no turning back now."

"Exactly," Erik agreed, "it is time to perform. You will do well. I know it, you've already sung the first half, now that the intermission is here you must finish."

"I am so nervous," she whispered and turned back to the mirror, "but it will be fine as long as I concentrate… yes, everything will be fine."

Once Erik left her to herself by a slot in the wall that she had never noticed – she began to change. The dress itself was modest, but she felt laid bare. She knew that the feeling would only intensify when she was actually on stage performing with Piangi.

"I must be calm," she told herself seriously as she examined herself in the mirror. The dress itself was a strange peach pink, it had black lace running from the middle of her hips down, and it pinched so tightly at her waist that she wondered if she would be able to sing properly after all.

Christine cleared her throat delicately and then began to slip on the black shoes with the slight heel. Parts of her legs were showing and she wondered if it would be indecent to the crowd. It would not matter anyway; they would hopefully be stunned silent at Erik's music.

**…**

Erik quickly made his way through the halls and towards his box, everything was ready. Christine would perform the song and his music would stun them all.

She had been nervous for this song all night, and while he knew that it would be hard for her to perform he also knew that she could do it. She was not an ignorant child of some sort, she was – after all – a grown woman. Even now he sometimes wanted to scold her but remembered that he did not have the right to speak to her that way. He was not Raoul de Chagny, and he would control his temper lest she would run off and leave him to his lair.

As Erik made his way to the entrance of Box Five he carefully moved aside the curtain and then stiffened at what he saw. Someone was sitting in his chair with a perfect view of the stage…

A male of honey blonde hair… he wore a dark suit and a blue cravat; it did not take him very long to figure out who it was.

_This _boy_! Raoul de Chagny! _He roared in his mind as he moved into the box quietly, directly behind him. The boy had not sensed him yet; instead he moved uncomfortably in his seat and stared out at the stage where Christine would soon be.

Easily Erik slid the rope down from his sleeve and poised it over Raoul's pretty blonde head of hair. Ready to drop it down and snuff the life out of his body. But then he stilled.

_No, this cannot happen! Christine does not want him harmed… _Erik clenched and unclenched his fingers, _what is he doing here? Did he sneak in? He did not buy the seats… I was sitting here for the first half. What is he doing here? _

"My goodness, where is she?" Raoul muttered with impatience.

_Nowhere that you need concern yourself of,_ Erik thought as he moved back carefully, away from the boy, _tonight you will know why it is that she is mine._

With that Erik moved away and towards the stage.

* * *

**That's the end of Part I. I will be posting Part II today as well.. it is already written, so review in a hurry :) **

**I would have left it as one large piece but my heart was urging me not to do it as one epic chapter. It would all just seem very rushed. And I would have gone through the weeks of Christine struggling but figure that is just a waste of chapters, so I summed it up, no need to make chapters that really don't have much content. :)**

**REVIEW. YOU ALL KNOW WHAT'S COMING UP :)**


	31. Past the Point of no Return

**Chapter XXXI**

Nervously Christine made her way towards the stage and watched the dancers move and twirl and sing. They were all wonderful and very good at what they did. Even Carlotta, whom Christine could not stand, made certain to not shriek her way through the songs.

Impatiently she watched for her cue.

Carlotta stepped out holding two apples wide and a playful grin on her face, the dancers behind her took deep breaths and prepared to sing.

"Here the sire may serve the dam! Here the master takes his meat, here the sacrificial lamb, utters one despairing bleat!"

Carlotta sang then, Christine shivered at the foreboding and dark overtone to the music, "poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets – you will have to pay the bill. Tangled in the winding sheets!"

"Serve the meal and serve the maid!" Carlotta vocalized, "Serve the master so that, when tables, plans and maids are laid, Don Juan triumphs, once again!" They all began running off the stage with ecstatic giggles, brushing past Christine with serious faces when they were off the stage.

Piangi emerged from behind the arch and Meg, the gypsy dancer, pirouetted coquettishly for him, he threw her a purse which she caugt, then she ran off the stage. As she passed Christine she gave her a bright grin but ran off.

"Passarino faithful friend!" Don Juan threw his leg up onto a near bench proudly, "once again recite the plan."

"Your young guest believes I'm you – I, the master, you, the man!" Passarino laughed.

Don Juan approached the edge of the stage and reached his arms out.

Christine drowned him out and closed her eyes.

She had to do this.

This was for Erik, this was all for _him_. She had to bear the man touching her, it was not real, this was a show, and she had to do her job. She must do this for _Him_!

"… Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what, in truth, is mine." Passarino began the task of covering wide set Don Juan in a black cloak, "when it's late and modesty starts to mellow, with the wine." Her heart beat faster at the words, they reminded her of bad times.

"You come home! I use your voice – slam the door like crack of doom!" Don Juan grabbed the hat off the table splayed with apples and oranges.

Christine swallowed back and looked to Box Five from where she stood; she did not see the golden eyes there.

_… Is... who is that?_

"Raoul?" Her gasp was loud but no one heard her as they continued singing.

_Raoul has box five? My God! What is he thinking?! Why did they give him that box? No, certainly he must have taken it without permission, Erik had it first! What is this? I cannot do this…_

Slowly she backed away from the stage but suddenly her body ceased.

_I cannot abandon Erik... no, I must ignore Raoul. I must prove to him and to Erik, but more importantly myself that I am stronger then this! I am!_

Don Juan laughed three times and she opened her mouth and slowly skated towards the stage before she could stop herself.

"No thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy!" The crowd sighed at her, she was a vision to behold, "no dreams within her heart, but dreams of love!" She vocalized, suddenly immersed in the role, swiftly finding herself alone with only Erik's eyes to watch over her. She spread her arms out, revealing the beautiful gown in full and letting the black shawl fall away.

Flirtatiously she moved around the stage.

"Master?" She moved around the table of fruits and grabbed an apple.

"Passarino?" a deep voice asked, "go away, for the trap is set, and waits for its prey." Behind her she heard a wall slide open. Piangi was singing very well, perfectly on pitch. What had happened? It sounded so much better this way.

She sat and spread her legs, the dress dipped down, the crowd blinked with shock and she ignored, rubbing the apple on the dress and examining it as Don Juan began.

"You have come here…in pursuit of your deepest urge... In pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent… silent."

Christine moved away from the bench with long steps and a hard swing of her hips, the dress swayed to and fro with her movements as she approached the side of the stage and Don Juan continued:

"I have brought you - that our passion may fuse and merge," Don Juan approached with graceful steps, his broad shoulders looked rounder beneath the black cloak and his pale hands came out towards her, "in your mind you've already succumbed to me. Dropped all defenses, completely _succumbed_ to me. Now you are here with me," he approached her more and then took the apple from her hand, brushing their fingers together.

_Dear God… _her heart gave a horrible nonrhythmic palpitation and her forehead broke into a misty sweat.

"No second thoughts…"

As their fingers brushed she felt that papery cool skin.

Her mind froze for only an instant, her eyes nervously traveled to him but she could see nothing… only a black fabric. She was certain it was _Him_, it had to me, this figure was tall, not short and round.

"You've decided," he sang softly, knowingly, suggestively as she remained on the stage, knowing what was about to come, but hoping it would be with him then with anyone else, _"decided…."_

Slowly she began to turn her head from him, her heart beat so hard that her temperature shot up. Her heart thundered inside of her, her temples pounded and the crowd stared with interest.

"Past the point of no return… no backward glances," his right hand came out to her but before he could touch her she was already turning her face towards him. She smiled then as she was supposed to… but something else lurked in her stare.

"Our games of make believe are at an end!" Erik raised his hands out towards the crowd and she couldn't help but become one with him in that very unifying moment, staring out to the audience with him beside her, both thrilling and calming her.

"Past the thought of if or _when_," very quickly he grabbed her wrist, she smiled sultrily giving into him, "no use resisting," his fingers tensed around her as they began moving backwards, away from the crowd, "abandon thought and let the dream descend!"

She twirled away, his voice wrapping her up tightly and controlling every aspect of her mindset.

"What raging fire shall flood the soul, what rich desire unlocks its door?" she took a seat and spread her legs once again, looking out into the shocked faces of the women and the lusting faces of the men. Erik sat beside her beside her and sang in a wonderfully dark voice, touching her knee so lightly with his fingertips… "What sweet seduction lies before….. _us_." Slowly his hands traveled up her arms, shivers struggled to break to the surface as he sang in her ear, _only_ to her, "past the point of no return," he purred, "the final threshold," his fingers were at her _neck_. She released a small gasp but he continued and came to a stand behind her, removing his hands before she could yearn for more, "what warm unspoken secrets… will we learn?"

And then he sat to her right and Christine's heart sped so hard that the smile started to die away… she wouldn't be able to do this…

"Beyond the point," he touched her hand, swallowing it whole, applying the slightest more subtle of pressure, he almost entwined their fingers but not quite, and then glided both their hands along the length of her waist. And then just below her right breast, her breathing picked up, Erik continued singing, "of no…" she drew a quiet breath inward when his hand and her own settled directly over her right breast, his hand was so large that his thumb rested just on the side, lingering, "return…"

Harshly she ripped his hand away and moved away from him, on the other side of the stage, staring at him with shock. He sat there, closed off in front of hundreds of people.

**…**

_Is she angry with me? _He wondered as she looked to the crowd nervously, embarrassed, and then tried to play it off.

His hand and mind burned at what he had just done. He was so angry with Raoul de Chagny that he had lost himself… he had just _touched_ her, well in truth her hand had covered her own chest and not his, but he had been too close! _I cannot beg for forgiveness now, we must finish this. _

"_You_ have brought me," her voice became shaky, nervous, "to that moment when words run dry," they were all giving her strange looks. She strained to sing better but managed, "to that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence…" she turned to face him… smiling.

_Is it just for the role? _He wondered where he sat, watching her proudly, nervously.

"I have come here hardly knowing the reason why!" Raising her hands she strolled towards him… this was what she had wanted. This is what _he_ wanted… he had to, "in my mind I've already imagined, our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent. And now I am here with you."

He lowered his head. He could feel the faint lust burning in his hands for her before turning it to her as she threw her black shawl away from the table. The way he looked to her was not part of the choreography… she stared at him seriously then, "no second thoughts… I've decided…" He looked away. Quickly she shuffled and turned so that she leaned against the table, "decided…"

He sat very still. _Will she keep singing? Will she give me this one moment… _

And then she did.

"Past the point of no return… no going back now. Our passion play has now at last begun!" She looked to him and smiled darkly at his stiffened demeanor, approaching him quickly, "past the thought of right, or wrong," Christine threw her leg up beside him, the inside of her thigh rubbed against his arm and she almost chuckled at how he fisted his pale hands against his knees, pulling the cloth into his grip, "one final question.

"How long should we two wait, before we're one?" She vocalized as he shakily brought his hands up, they trembled so hard that she gripped them with more strength then was necessary, _so then you are not unbreakable stone? _ "When will the blood begin to race?" She sang huskily in his ear, staring out to the crowd with their bulging eyes when she ran his left hand against his left thigh, leaning onto him, "the sleeping bud burst into bloom?"

He struggled to breathe and he turned his head towards her. Her scent was _everywhere_, he could not think of the crowd but only of her, he pressed the tip of his nose to her neck and breathed in.

She drew up and pulled his arms wide to his side, "when will the flames at last," and then embraced him wholeheartedly from behind, his body felt so powerful… so different from what she could ever imagine, "consume us?"

"Oh _Christine_…" he whispered lowly.

_What am I doing? I should not be touching him this way, he does not want it! _Christine stiffened and moved away from him but quite suddenly Erik pulled her by the arm until she was standing before him at arm's length; she opened her mouth as if commanded and sang with him.

"Past the point of no return," he began to draw her nearer by the tops of her arm, tall and powerful, "the final threshold! The bridge is crossed!" He turned her around fully until she faced box five and pressed her against him, her body went limp as Raoul de Chagny stood from where he sat and stared down at her with tears in his eyes, "so _stand _and watch it burn!" Erik was singing furiously above her voice.

Christine closed her eyes to block out the sight of Raoul, she felt very weak. Erik felt it too and tightly gripped her to him and let his arm wrap around her waist possessively and his right hand rested at the base of her neck until his fingers wrapped all the way around her throat, her flesh was so _soft_. He was hardening against her, she would feel nothing through all the folds of her dress.

"We've past the point of no… return…" her voice died away and very suddenly she slacked, closing her eyes and going limp. Erik stared up at Raoul through the hood with a dark glare and a smile.

_She will never be yours. _

He finished the song quietly, stroking her throat gently, reveling in the feel of her skin,of her pressed to him…

He felt high, he felt ecstatic, he felt confused as to how she was not screaming away from him, "say you'll share with me… one love… one lifetime…" she weakly sighed and he exposed her neck further, trying to wake her with his voice, pressing his face to hers carefully, boldly, "lead me save me from my solitude… say you want me with you here… beside you…"

Christine stirred with his voice in her ear and a hundred eyes before her. Erik turned her quickly and gripped her hand tightly, behind his head she could see Raoul's blonde hair, "anywhere you go let me go too! That's all I ask of you!"

The crowd erupted into a wild cheer and craze of screaming. Christine could hardly think as the curtains closed and Erik began pulling her by the hand rapidly.

She could hardly hear past all the yelling and the screams of her name. She could not hear past the her own breathing in her _head_, and the very clear message Erik had delivered.

Erik had made his statement, to both her and Raoul.

"Christine!" She heard yells behind her as Erik pulled her through the empty halls of the Opera Populaire and then into the dressing room. He shut the door and threw off the cloak, revealing himself in black, as usual and his white mask. His eyes looked brighter then usual.

"That was brilliant," Erik started pacing, ignoring the furious knocks on her door, "you must return to the stage and bow out and then return to me at once. I will not have you up for too long. You lost consciousness for a few moments, are you better now? Of course you are alright," Erik ranted and came to her and fell to his knees, as if suddenly exhausted. She stared at him with shock as he clasped her hands tightly. His cool hands trembled violently, and his hair was in a disarray, "Christine, _Christine_," he whispered feverishly., closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to her knuckles, bowing his head down at her.

"Erik?"

"You have made every dream of mine come true," he stared up at her with a shimmer in his eye. She felt her eyes bulge with shock, "I can die happily now. I _performed_," he explained, "You have made my dream more then just... _that_…. And you did not run away when you could have, when I touched your skin!" The amber flamed.

She laughed softly, "Erik, I enjoyed sharing the stage with you, I should thank you..."

"Thank you, thank you…" he whispered again with adoration and a glimmering in his eyes, "thank you.. my love," he rested his head onto her lap, and then very quietly so that she would not notice… he began to weep into the fabric her dress.

* * *

**I hope I just broke your heart .. kinda... haha!**

**I didn't want to make the Past the Point of No Return scene to be simply sexual, I wanted to add more dimension to it by describe the movements and the thought process.. the nervousness and the confusing lust that go into both Christine and Erik's performance. It works for the play, you know Christine all like 'WTF IS THIS? Meh whatever I want him" but imagine that I just threw that in there? How would I even describe that without making it look like I just wanted to set them up for some super hot sex scene.. **

**It just wouldn't work for the story, so I wanted to make it a moment where Christine truly gives Erik something he has ALWAYS wanted in more ways then one.**

**:) Please review, I really struggled to make this chapter what it is, and this will be my.. second update today. So ... review! Erik is Crying :( **


	32. The Trap is Set

**Chapter XXXII**

Erik watched from behind the mirror as Christine entered back into the dressing room in a rush.

She had not seen him cry, she had not caught the tear stains in her dress either. She had simply stroked his hair until he discreetly pulled his face away and then pulled the mirror aside silently, He had heard the applause, but when a roar erupted he knew that she had run onto the stage. He smirked, leaning weakly against the wall. What a wonderful night.

Erik moved the mirror aside and casually extended his hand forward towards her.

"You are still a bit excited off of your performance," Christine smiled and took his hand.

After closing the mirror they moved down the tunnels in silence. She could feel the waves of excitement rolling off of him; he even rowed faster than usual. And when they came to the lair he sat at his piano bench and bent his head, almost as if exhausted.

Christine silently bid him goodnight and moved to her bedroom. When she stripped herself of her clothing she stood in front of the mirror for a long time, looking at her neck… feeling his ghostly fingers as they had wrapped around her throat, possessively.

_But what does that mean? Does he own my being, or my voice? _

Turning from the mirror she put on her nightgown and then lay under the covers.

She could still feel his fingers, long and powerful around her. His arm holding her up against him, the feeling of his voice in her ear, Christine bit her lip to not release a hard breath, and perhaps a stranger noise.

_The man is beautiful, _she thought quietly. The thought of him above her did not frighten her as she imagined it should have, even without the mask she would feel the same alertness as the feel of him. She wanted to march into his bedroom as she had once before, but she knew that he would not have her. _He is much too proud, and much too afraid… but my God, I can imagine what the length of his body against my own would be like… _

Quietly Christine bit her lip against a hearty breath threatening to escape her. She could imagine it, but she did not know what to imagine. How would Erik approach a chaste kiss? He would not have it, probably. With frustration she buried her face into the pillow and struggled to sleep.

**…**

The following days passed without incident. The managers suspected that Christine had been on the stage with the Phantom of the Opera, but no one dared to question her about the thought. They feared that the Opera Ghost would be offended and it might mean their necks.

"Do you think that Piangi will pull himself together and perform?" Christine asked Erik with interest, "you terrified him so badly that he lost his voice from screaming."

Erik smirked and continued composing, "if he does not pull himself together then I might have to take his place."

"You really did an amazing job," Christine smiled and moved to his side, "although they are very suspicious that you were the Opera Ghost. They will not say anything but I can see all the questions written on their faces. It makes it very difficult to rehearse when no one wishes to sing the part of Don Juan."

This seemed to please Erik as he released a small smile. Nervously Christine analyzed his mask and opened her mouth.

"Erik, will you never take off your mask in my presence again?"

Every muscle in his body stiffened, _has she gone mad? _He wondered and slowly turned his face to her, _does she not remember what it was that lay behind this? Or does she need a reminder. No, certainly not, for how can anyone forget such a spectacularly horrific sight._

Her eyes dimmed sadly, "I would not run from you, or scream. But I imagine that the mask is not very comfortable."

"It is unpleasant," his tone was bleak, "and no I will not let you see me without this again."

She shuffled her stance uncomfortably and played with her hands nervously, "but why not?"

"Damn it Christine!" His fist fell onto the keys so harshly that the cat bounded out from his hiding spot and took off to her room, she jumped back with fright and stared at him, "why do you wish to see it? Why is it that whenever things are going well you choose to do something that completely destroys-

"I choose?" She blanched, "I chose to do what exactly?"

He turned his eyes onto her and glared, "forget I said anything." With that he turned back to his music and began composing again, "just know that I will not subject myself to the revulsion of your stare, and I will not subject _you_ to the horror of my face."

Christine wordlessly turned away from him and stomped towards the kitchen and began preparing herself a meal in silence.

**…**

_She had truly lost her mind, what sane person wishes to see this face? Is the mask unpleasant for her? Perhaps I will design a new one, one that is more realistic so that she will have something new to stare at. After all it is not as if I am the one that is looking at it. I hardly feel it anymore. _

As he finished composing Erik stood and flexed his fingers. He had been sitting there for hours now, and no word from Christine. Night had fallen and he was certain Christine would like to travel outside with him for a few minutes.

Quietly Erik made his way towards her bedroom. He knocked twice and waited for permission.

When her footsteps came near the door and she opened it she would not stare at him, she quickly turned her back and went to her dresser. He frowned, what was she doing?

"Would you like to accompany me for a walk?"

"No thank you," she responded politely and pulled out her night gown. He blinked with shock.

_She liked to walk at night, why does she deny me? _"Are you tired?" He asked with curiosity and stepped into the room slowly. She lifted her gaze and shook her head, "then why do you wish to stay inside. You like to walk in the night."

"I do not wish to walk tonight, that is all."

"That is not all," he glared now, he was growing weary of this, "look at me," he demanded snappily from where he stood. She raised her blue eyes to his with surprise. The unmasked side of his face revealed a plain annoyance, it would have been unreadable to anyone else, "I do not like to be ignored as you are ignoring me."

She rolled her eyes, Erik gritted his teeth at the movement, "being ignored is your favorite past time Erik, I would hardly think that my silence would invoke such a heated reaction on your behalf."

"Are you toying with me Christine?" He tilted his head very slightly to the side, "do you think it is fun to poke and prod my patience?"

"Am I trying your patience, yet again?"

His eyes widened with annoyance and he marched upon her, she coolly lifted her head at him, "yes, you are," he warned, "now explain why it is that you scold me with silence, and be quick about it."

"You are unbelievable," she shook her head; "you still think that I would scream and run away from you at the sight of your face."

"I know you will," his eyes narrowed, "do you think I am a fool? I grew up learning that it does not matter how often one see's this beastly disposition – it will always be more horrific then the first time. My mother taught me that-

"I am not your mother!" She cried out with annoyance, "I am Christine, _Christine_!"

"Yes, you are Christine," he agreed with a dark look, "and it is because of that that I must take precautions with you above everyone else. The Vincomte will look more beautiful every time you see my skull head."

"Oh God, Erik…" Christine fell to the bed with annoyance; she stared up at him, "why must everything be about him? Why can you never just admit that it is because you are afraid?"

"I am not afraid," he glared, "I am just uncomfortable."

"You must stop comparing yourself to him," she assured him quietly, "please do not feel uncomfortable. I do not wish to harm you. I need you to be free. I do not like it when you wear that mask; you hide a piece of yourself away from me. Do you enjoy wearing it?"

He spoke through his teeth, the warm emanating from her body was tempting in this cold, "no."

"Then why must you wear it when I am asking you to liberate yourself of it?"

_Because I am afraid, _but he could not say that, instead he said, "because it is better this way Christine. Trust me…" At the sight of the slight red in her eyes he sat beside her and hesitantly took her hand. When she allowed him to he breathed a hard sigh of relief, "this face will destroy us."

"Do not be so foolish, I am still here with you. You must grow up Erik," her voice was bleak. He smirked despite the slight insult, "you must realize that I want to see you as you are, my love."

The words thrilled him and he nodded very subtly, she did not catch it at all. Instead she smiled at him and hesitantly reached up to touch the unmasked side of his face. When he closed his eyes against the sensation, and then leaned into it she couldn't' help but tear up and then smile at him.

"My phantom…" she cooed and sighed, "I love you."

The reminder made his eyes snap open, clenching his jaw he nodded, "I will overcome this Christine."

"I believe you, my love."

**…**

_She wishes to see my face… _Erik thought when he returned to his organ, _it is curiosity. She does not know what she wishes, she only wants to get used to it so that eventually she might be able to glimpse it without screaming. But she does not truly wish to see it. If she had the choice she would want this face to be switched for another. _

With an angry huff Erik moved away from the instrument. He needed to get out of there.

He stalked silently all the way to where the chamber was. Upon pushing open the door he heard a hard whimper go through the man in the room.

Jonathan's eyes were bruised so badly that he could hardly open them. His lips were swollen and almost black; he slobbered horribly and whimpered at the sound of the footsteps drawing near. His heart stuttered wildly and he began his daily struggle against the tight bonds around his wrists. His broken fingers protested against the effort.

"Oh, come now boy," _He_ chastised, "you know better than to fight."

"Please," Jonathan pleaded with cry that caught in his dry throat, "please stop, stop this, I cannot- I cannot live like this—

"Oh stop, stop," his tone was disapproving and nearby. Through the slight opening in his eyes Jonathan caught sight of the long legs, clad in black moving to the right, towards the table, "your pleading is rather pathetic. Did it occur to you that her life might be equally as horrible at what you did? You were planning to gather rich men and use her body for your own fortune. Now you plead for more mercy then I have shown you?"

"Please!" The dry sob was more like a rasp; Jonathan could feel pain, _everywhere_, in his joints, his bones, his muscles, his cheeks, his lips and face, in the back of his neck and his fingers. And just when it was starting to dull out the man always returned to make it worse, "Please! I am so sorry!"

"No you are not," he sighed, "you are in pain."

"There has to-to-b-be a way… a way to make amends," Jonathan pleaded.

"What do you suppose I do?" Erik crouched before him and cocked his head to the side with a wondering stare, "do you suppose I erase her memory? How do you presume I go about that? Shall I summon a hypnotist? Shall I drug her as you did and keep her that way so that she might not remember anything at all?"

Jonathan cried in response.

"She really is a special woman. But I assume that you already knew that, do you want to know what she did for me?" Jonathan blubbered yes, Erik smiled, "she allowed me to share the stage with her. I do not know what to think of it. I thought she would run off after I touched her. She almost did, and she could have screamed and interrupted the whole show but she stayed, it amazes…. She astounds me and fascinates me."

Jonathan used this to his advantage, hoping to engage the man. The only thing he ever spoke of was her. And in all the time that he had been here, which felt like an eternity, the man hardly spoke. This was the most Jonathan had heard him speak in an entire 'session', "w-what did you s-sing?"

"Past the Point of no Return. A very sensual song, but it was preferable that I should sing it. I had to send a message to Raoul de Chagny, he thought to rip her away from me, just like _you_—

"AH!" Jonathan wailed when Erik poured alcohol into his leg wound.

"He wishes to marry her," Erik stood quickly, infuriated at the recollection. Jonathan continued crying and slobbering all over himself, "what if he continues to harass her? What do I do then?"

Jonathan did not know what to respond to him with, was he really asking?

"It does not matter; she would not leave with him. I know this," Erik sighed at the thought of her, "as much as it displeases me to think that she wishes to see my face, I cannot deny that it feels me with joy. She wants to accept the monstrosity behind the mask. And I think I will show her… yes, I will. She has made my dreams come true; I must give her what she wants. Now Jonathan, It has been almost two days since I last met with you, tomorrow I shall return. I think I will use pliers to pull out that last toenail."

**…**

"The managers wish to see you Christine," Erik told her when they walked towards the dressing room. Her heart gave a stutter, "they want to discuss the events of Don Juan. They feel that they cannot ignore them any longer. Simply blame it on the Opera Ghost, feign memory loss if you must."

"That is silly," she stuttered.

"They believe in Phantoms, silly is out of the question."

When Christine left Erik at the mirror she began walking along the halls of the opera house nervously. She was unsure of how this would go. She only hoped that Erik was nearby listening that he would find some way to intervene if it called for it.

"Ah! Miss Daae!" Firmin cried as she approached his open door. Instantly he walked around the desk and pulled out a chair for her, his dark hair glistened so strangely that she wondered if he had oiled it.

"Good afternoon Monsieur," she greeted warmly with her bright gaze. Christine feigned innocence and took a seat, "to what do I owe—

"I am sure you are aware of what happened to Signor Piangi?" He started nervously, "he was found locked in a closet screaming so hard that he lost his voice, naturally we assume that the person responsible for this was the same individual whom you found yourself on stage with. Who were you performing with?" She blinked rapidly, unsure of what it was that she should respond with, his dark eyes bulged at her, "explain at this moment what happened! You ran off with the man!"

"Monsieur I really do not know how to explain what happened on the stage. I find myself just as confused. I was there, and then I found myself caught by the apparition, and when he pulled me backstage I…" she looked strangely into the distance, his expression became horrified, _hopefully it is convincing enough_, "I do not remember anything—

"Truly Christine you astound me," Raoul's voice sounded from behind her.

Christine stood in a hurry from where she had taken a seat and backed away from him as he entered the room. His eyes were slightly reddened as if he had been crying all night and they were slightly puffy at the edges. "What are you doing here Monsieur de Chagny?" Her voice was shaky; Firmin walked around the table and to her side, as if worried about what de Chagny would do to her if he did not stand by her.

"Firmin, would you give us a moment alone?" He smiled dashingly at the older, shorter and very much confused man. He nodded dumbly and Christine trembled violently where she stood, her eyes darted nervously.

"Please stay, Firmin," she pleaded quietly. He looked at her with surprise, and nodded.

"Firmin-

"I will stay," he stated, looking away from Christine and to Raoul seriously. His eyes held an unspoken challenge at the Vincomte. He would not dare to throw him out of his own office. And the look in de Chagny's eyes made him worry. He had a dazed expression where it was usually bright and focused.

Raoul looked at Christine with annoyance and spoke, "your guardian, it was him on the stage with you, was it not?"

"I do not know what it is that you are talking about," she shrugged convincingly. Raoul knew better, "I would appreciate it if you would stop with these ridiculous assumptions sir; it is unbecoming of a man to judge on matters of which he knows nothing."

"Monsieur Firmin," Raoul smiled at the manager who stared back and forth with confusion, "did you know that the Phantom of the opera is not a Phantom at all? But a man - a man whom Christine lives with. The very same man that she was sharing the stage with last night-

"How dare you!" She thundered at him and moved until she was directly in front of him, "you know nothing! I want to leave, I am tired of this—

"Miss Daae!" Andre entered the room angrily with Piangi and Carlotta at his heel. Christine's heart began to beat harder as she back up against the wall, _where is Erik!_ Andre spoke again, "where did you go after the ovation last night?"

"I rested in the dressing room-

"You little liar!" Carlotta hissed violently, tilting her chin down and staring at the blue eyed woman with such a ferocity that Firmin stepped in front of the petite female, blocking her from the harsh glare, "you came out today dressed in something completely different then what you wore the night before."

"Let us calm ourselves!" Firmin exclaimed.

Piangi started now, "the Phantom threw me into a closet! The man wore a white mask and almost killed me if I had not complied! I felt his rope around my neck as he threatened me into the darkness! The Phantom, yes! And then he took my spot-

"And it was the Phantom who wanted _you_ for the role! You are the Phantom's little pet are you not?" Carlotta growled.

"There is no Phantom of the Opera!" Raoul exclaimed at them all, "he is nothing but a man, I have seen him with my own eyes in front of the Opera House. He is a man and nothing more." He stepped forward, and brushed past Firmin until he was in front of Christine; very gently he raised his hands to touch her shoulders.

"Do not touch me!" She slapped his hand away from her, Raoul glared, "you do not know anything about him! He is kind-

"He is a lunatic," Piangi exclaimed hoarsely, "my voice is gone!"

The door crashed open again and Madame Giry stepped in, tall and dressed from head to toe in black. Her eyes were shining with rage, "What do you all think you are doing?"

"We're exorcising his presence from this opera house," Andre explained. Madame Giry's eyes widened and she looked to Christine's trembling form.

"You know he is not a Phantom either, you and I spoke of it," Raoul turned to Madame Giry with indignation, "he is a danger to us all. He has killed, and I have seen the man with my own eyes, he wears a mask to cover half of his face like some sort of criminal. Is this the type of man you wish Christine –

"That is my choice, not yours," Christine interrupted and balled her hands into fists, "now step aside. I will be leaving now-

"To your Phantom?" Carlotta smirked, "will the two of you rehearse for the next time that you throw one of us in the closet?" Her eyes bulged very quickly, as did Piangi's. At once they both shouted, _"she's his accomplice!"_

"Are you listening to yourselves?" Christine exclaimed with a hard glare in Raoul's direction,"I have never seen such foolish individuals in my life. Step out of my way Raoul, I do not wish to be in such horrible company-

"Horrible company?" Raoul's blonde hair trembled on his head as he struggled to control himself, "you spend most of your time with that creature."

"Why does it matter that I wish to spend time with him? Is this another attempt on your behalf to—

"He is a danger to you!" Raoul yelled viciously down at her, "do you not understand that the man is insane? If it were I who were doing the things he does you would see me as the villain in this little story, and even as I try to save you I am the villain?" He shook his head down at her and forcefully took her hands in his own, her eyes widened at him, "Christine, please listen to me… he is a danger to you. Please, understand that."

She shook her head, "no."

"Do you remember when I met you outside the opera house and the way he stormed out, he grabbed you like a man possessed. Why do you allow him to do this to you? I understand your pity for him but Christine," he reached up and stroked her hair out of her face, Carlotta's eyes bulged behind him, "do you not understand that the man is unstable."

Flashes of Erik yelling, ranting, raving at her moved through her vision, the way he would hiss and tighten his grip around her wrist, jerk her forward to silence her, threaten to kill without threatening at all.

"I know you can see reason Christine, I can give you a life of happiness. One he never could," the managers watched with shock as the Vincomte dared to reach up and hold the face of the young woman, Carlotta seethed where she stood, "I know you can see reason," the hazel of his eyes flickered with fire, "help us bring him to justice Christine. He is a killer."

"No."

"You must understand, he does not love you he is obsessed—

"No," she shook her head, "he is kind, and he would never harm an innocent individual."

"Murder is murder, Christine," Raoul stroked her cheeks gently, hoping to make her see reason; "shall it always go unpunished because of what you or I may deem innocent or guilty? The man must be stopped. He could have killed Piangi, he made the man lose his voice!"

"He would never harm him," she pleaded with them.

"He will come to Justice Christine, with or without you," Andre stated with a foreboding tone.

"Give us a moment alone, please," Raoul de Chagny ordered. Silently everyone left, Madame Giry cast him a dark glare and escaped, leaving Christine with Raoul.

**…**

Madame Giry went to the dressing room in a hurry. She had to get to Erik; he had to know what was happening.

Very quickly she threw them mirror aside .Erik had taught her how to use it and she had hoped to never have to go down there but this was necessary. Instantly she began crying out his name, knowing he would hear her.

"Erik! Erik! Come now! You must come!" Her yelling carried throughout all the tunnels and the louder she shouted the nearer they came to where Erik sat with Nadir in front of him, "Erik!"

**…**

"I asked for your hand in marriage," Raoul stared down at Christine with a gentle gaze, "I gave you more time then I initially promised to make up your mind. If you come with me I will ensure that your guardian is left in peace. I swear it Christine… I will make sure that you continue with your love of music. I will get you a tutor; I will do everything in my power to ensure that all your wishes come true. But if you do not then I will hunt him down," his eyes darkened at her, "I will not wait anymore for your answer.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She croaked weakly, his once beautiful eyes now filled her with despair, "how can you do this to me?"

"I care about you. And I will not see you fall to the hands of a madman."

**…**

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Erik hissed as he approached Madame Giry at the edge of the lake. He moved off of the boat and stood before her. She was heaving for breath and clutching at the walls, "you come screaming, interrupting my privacy-

"Raoul de Chagny has her," she gasped wildly. His body seized, and Nadir stood from where he was observing on the boat and came to Erik's side.

"What are you talking about?" Nadir asked.

"He is threatening to hunt Erik down if she does not agree to marry him!" She forced out, "they are all threatening your life."

His eyes stretched in fury and he began an awfully quick march towards the mirror.

"No! Erik you cannot show yourself!" Madame Giry clutched his cape as he continued walking, pulling her along, "they will kill you in front of her! You cannot!"

"Shall I let her be ripped away from me?" He thundered, turning around and facing her, "I cannot simply stand here!" He could see it now, Christine crying and begging them to leave her alone as they hounded her like dogs.

"That is exactly what you must do!" She roared back.

**…**

"Please don't make me do this," Christine sobbed on her knees, "I cannot leave him; he will not know what to do. Please, Raoul just let us be, do not harm him. Please-

"If you do not want him harmed then come with me. I will let you say your goodbye. But you must return to me, and if you do not then I will find you and I will make sure that he is handed over to the proper authorities-

"You would never find him," she shook her head, her tears splashed down to the floor, "you would never –

"He resides somewhere in this Opera House. I know that much. And I will tear that dressing room down to pieces. That is where you disappear off to every night, I know that there is something there that you do not wish to be revealed," his eyes glistened as she stared up at him on her hands and knees, "what is your answer Christine."

**…**

"Erik stop it!" Nadir slammed the masked man against the wall so hard that the rocks bit into his dark shirt, "you cannot go out there they will shoot you on sight!"

Erik ignored and threw a fist out at the dark haired man but missed when Nadir ducked and slammed him into the walls again.

"You will get her back but right now you cannot go there!"

"Get away from me! Or I WILL kill you! I will rip your heart out—

Naidr slammed the masked man against the ground once and crushed his hands against his shoulders, pinning him down as Madame Giry pulled at her hair nervously, unsure of what to do as the two man wrestled, "stay down Erik!"

"Christine will return to you," Madame Giry tried to soothe him, "whether or not she marries –

"Stop!" He yelled, "Close your mouth! Do not speak! Get off me! THEY WILL DIE!"

Nadir threw his fist down at the man angrily with so much force that the crack resonated through the tunnels. Erik went limp.

**…**

"Raoul I am begging you," she pleaded one last time, "do not make me do this."

"The choice is all yours," he snapped impatiently, "yes or no Christine."

"I do not love you!" She yelled at him.

"But you will learn," he shrugged and pulled her off her feet, her small frame trembled so hard that he wanted to hold her, but in her state he knew that it would not be for the best, "you learned to love that beast of a man, I am certain you can learn to love me too."

_That's exactly what I am afraid of, _she sobbed mentally.

**…**

Nadir shoved Erik onto the boat. All the fight had left him, and he lay there face down, messily sprawled. Nadir began rowing them back to the other side of the lair. Madame Giry stood where they had left her with anxiety.

"Go find Christine!" Nadir called to her as he continued rowing, "bring her back here if you can! I will do my best to keep Erik here. If not it will be a bloody massacre!"

"I shall bring her at once!" She yelled back over the lake and took off in a sprint towards the mirror.

Nadir turned to Erik who was lifting himself and breathing hard. The man seemed on the verge of a panic attack of some sort, Nadir hurried his rowing. He did not want to be trapped on the lake when the masked man came to his senses.

Erik was gaining clarity quickly. He could remember the blow Nadir delivered. It was all very clear, but still he found his limbs were not cooperating with him very much.

"Come, my friend," Nadir's voice came from the left and he found one of his arms draped around the older man's shoulder and one wrapped around his own waist. Nadir pulled him off the boat and hauled him up the short steps and finally settled him on the bench of his organ.

Erik opened his eyes hazily and stared at the Persian before him with confusion and then growing anger, "you struck me?"

"Yes, you were going to get yourself killed."

"You wish to let her go?!" Erik stood in a crazed fury, "I will kill him Daroga, _this_ is it! He will die! Perhaps not today, or tomorrow, but he will die and it will be by _my_ hand!" His heart drummed against him, "what if she cannot return. What if she accepts?" he fisted his hands in his hair and shut his eyes angrily, "this is how it is supposed to end, is it not? The beast does not –

"ERIK!" Christine's cry came from the kitchen.

He whirled around in a single moment and saw her there with her windblown hair and red eyes. She looked a mess. By the looks of it Madame Giry had led her through the outside entrance down to the lair.

Christine sprinted towards him clumsily. He came at her with more force then necessary and knocked the breath out of her when he lifted her against his frame. He did not care for the propriety, he needed her here. Always, _here_.

"Christine I will kill him," he stated raggedly into her shoulder, "he has been a pain since the day he appeared here. I will not have you ripped away from me without a fight."

"Erik, I'm so sorry," she sobbed into his shoulder, he smelled like rain and paper, and cold. Feverishly his hands wound in her hair and he buried his face into her shoulder as well, clutching her to a painful point, lifting her feet off the floor. She did not notice that she was struggling to breathe not because of her tears or her pain, but because of his hold, "I'm so sorry!" Her sight was going black around the edges, she could hardly think. She did not even notice Nadir's presence, and Madame Giry ducked her gaze away from the intimate moment, "he wants you dead, I could not have you harmed. I could not, I _will_ not. I love you, so much," she struggled to draw in a breath, "forgive me, Ange, please, _please_!"

He shut his eyes tightly and held her tighter, trying to block out the pain in his chest, it threatened to knock him to his knees

He knew already knew her answer.

* * *

**O_O *HIDES* **

**Hope I shocked you. I figured, oohh I'll start it off like oh this is a normal chapter and then BAM!**

**On a side note, NO, This is not going to be a oh Gustave is in the picture and they move to the U.S. or something. No, this will not follow the plot of Love Never Dies, as much as I liked it, the Plot is just.. .no. On another note, I hope that you can all understand why Christine had to say yes, for plot reasons and also for the sheer fact that Raoul is Raoul, he could get pretty much anything he wants done, so if that means tearing down the Dressing Room to find out where Erik is it's going to happen. Furthermore I notice that in a lot of stories people are generally dumb, like they can't figure out where Christine lives, I wanted that to happen here but I felt that Eventually SOMEONE would figure out that it's weird that shes always coming in and out of the dressing room. So that's what we have here. **

**Reviewww... :D **

***Screams as readers choke her* **


	33. The Prey

**Chapter XXXIII**

"Why did you accept?" Erik asked, his eyes narrowed and widened spontaneously with frustration. Christine continued to cry into his shoulder, "why?"

"He would have killed you," she blubbered weakly and slid down his body until her feet touched the ground, "he wants you dead, I-I can't-

"Then let me die Christine!" He took her by the shoulders angrily, she wept harder, Nadir stepped forward with nervousness as Erik's grip tightened, "why did you subject yourself to this! You will not marry him!"

"I love you I could not let him hurt you- I'm sorry," she sobbed wildly, desperately pulling his body to her own and burying her face into his chest, Nadir stared with shock, "forgive me, forgive me!" She began screaming wildly, "I love you so much I just cannot let him-

"Why did you accept!" He yelled with fury as she shook in his grasp, "are you the biggest fool to walk the earth Christine?!"

"I do not care! Hate me if you wish but I will not have your blood on my hands!" The air around them was growing thicker with the tension, "I cannot have you harmed please understand!" _Please, please!_

"He will not take you!" Erik stated fiercely. She stared up at him with the dreariest stare he had ever seen on her face, "he will die for this Christine."

"No!" she exclaimed and then lowered her voice, "Erik that cannot happen. They know that you are a man; they know that if something should happen to Raoul it would have been because of you. I cannot have that on my conscience, the thought of something happening to you because of me. Please do not-

"Then shall I simply sit here as he marries you against your will?" Erik was struggling to control his voice, the more minutes passed without the situation being remedied the more his hands shook, "what do you propose I do Christine!"

"I need you to not do anything that will endanger your life Erik!" She passed him and wiped at the wetness at her cheeks, then stared at Nadir, Erik fisted his hands against his forehead.

_That boy, that boy! He will suffer a fate just as the other that tried to take her away._

"Christine what is going on?" Nadir's voice shook more than her own.

"I am to marry Raoul, Nadir," she wiped the tears, "I need you to keep Erik here. I need you to promise me that you will not come after me until at least three days have passed. Only then will it be safe."

"I am not letting you go back up there!" Erik exclaimed. She ignored him and moved towards her room. Erik followed her, ranting as he went, "do you think I am an idiot? I will not let him touch you! I know what happens on wedding nights. I know what he plans to do with his presumptuous hands. He will defile you!"

"Erik I will not let him touch me," she sniffled and threw gowns onto the bed. He growled as she did so and stomped towards the bed. He grabbed them and forced them back into the closet, she hardly noticed that he was putting everything she took out back in its proper place, "you must come to me eventually Erik. You know where he lives; I will contact you by sending letters to Nadir. He will be suspicious but I will inform you of how I am doing by addressing our dear Persian. I suspect that- Erik stop it!" She shrieked as she realized what he had been doing.

He forced the last gown back into the closet and whirled around, "_you are not going to him_!"

"I must! Do you not understand the implications if I do not? You will die, and I will live with that! Please, Erik just... listen to me-

"No! You speak of leaving me!"

"Please Erik, please," she placed her hands on his strong shoulders and struggled to make him understand, "you will come for me, eventually, but the time for that is not tonight, and it is not tomorrow or the night after that. We must plan this carefully… he and I will not wed for quite some time. Do not think that because he says that we are to be married that it will rip me away from you. Even if I marry him," she blushed, "I will always want one man, and it is not him."

His eyes flamed, "he will try to touch you-

"Raoul would do no such thing without my permission. He may be delusional but he is not a man of such base morals."

"Are you sure of that?" Erik's eyes glinted, "he wants you."

"It does not matter, he will never have me, even if…" her eyes ducked from his gaze, "even if something should happen against my will, I will never belong with him, or to him."

"Christine, do not do this," he pleaded, the way she spoke made him feel as if she knew something was going to happen off of instincts, he could hardly stand it, "you cannot go with him. I will not let this happen!"

"You do not have a choice!" She quipped and stomped to the closet, would he force her to hurt him? Would he force her to claim that she would never want to live like this forever? Angrily she forced all the dresses out of the closet and pulled a suitcase out from under the bed, "you will let me do this. If you do not there will be more bloodshed then necessary and I will not have you with the eternal stain of it."

Erik could feel his control slipping. It seemed as if though she had her mind set. He could see it in the way her eyes dried, she shed no more tears, and she looked as if she were resigned to her chosen fate. And her little hands were too determined as they forced the dresses into the leather casing. His hands went behind his back. She was putting up a fight against Raoul's death… _perhaps there is a part of her that wishes to be with him. _

"Stop," she scolded him, he blinked, "I know what you are thinking. I can see it in your eyes; you think that I wish to leave you?" Her blue stare became white hot, "how could you think something like that?"

He came closer to her. Carefully he raised his gaze to her, "I am asking you for the last time, do not do this Christine. You and I will leave, we will go somewhere-

"Raoul de Chagny will find us Erik, he is upstairs at this very moment, it is daylight. There will be nowhere to run. Please, just listen to me. I will send a letter to Nadir. When I specifically inform him that I am having headaches you will find some way to enter the home. I do not know the layout but I imagine you will someone figure it out," he shut his eyes, hating this more and more, "I will not be without you." Her eyes burned, "you must be strong Erik. We will not be separated for long."

He reached out and caught her around the arm. She gave a wild shriek of fear and he held her shoulders tightly, staring down at her.

"You cannot leave me," his voice was growing frantic, "you swore to never leave me!"

"Erik I must, why can you not understand?"

"Because you promised me!" He began trembling violently, his knees were going weak, even in the darkness he could see her, but he felt so strange She began to disappear from his vision, "how can you promise something like this and not let me fix what that boy has started! You want to go with him. Is that it Christine?!"

"You fool!" She scolded weakly, "you will understand in time Erik, you will."

"I do not understand this," he rasped, she was ripping his heart out, and she was doing a very good job at feigning innocence, "make me understand. _Do not break your façade, _Erik scolded himself. Everything was falling apart. He could feel the last of his control almost slipping away. Reaching forward with whatever strength he had left he grasped onto it, "make me understand." He repeated.

"I do not wish to go with him," she spoke gently, "but I will do what I have to to keep you safe. Let me save you for once, Erik. You are powerless in this." The words made him stiffen, "you will understand eventually... I will send a letter to Nadir. Please tell me you will not fight this anymore."

_Do not make this harder for her, _Erik nodded, almost against his will, "I will be anxiously awaiting your letter," her eyes watered with defeat, "is that all you bring with you?"

Christine noticed that he sounded choked, "yes, I will not have him destroying my jewelry."

"And the ring?" He looked down to her hand, noticing that it was still in place.

Christine reached down and carefully slipped the ring off, "keep it safe, I expect it back on my hand soon enough." Carefully she slipped it into his waiting palm. She felt bare, very naked and very frightened, she voiced this, "Erik, I am not scared… but I feel that I am going crazy."

"Do not feel that way," he struggled against the urge to embrace her. If he did then that would be it. He would not release her, "Christine… he will try to touch you-

"I will not share the same bed as him. And if he thinks that I will then he will quickly find himself with a bloody lip!" She stated defiantly.

"Christine!" Madame Giry came running into the bedroom, Erik stiffened, he did not like the urgency in her step, "the Vincomte gave us ten minutes. We must leave now."

Erik's gaze darkened as Christine began trembling. His hands went on her shoulders, stilling her trembling, "look at me Christine."

She raised her eyes without resistance, hoping to God that there was something he could say that would ease her fear. When she looked at him she saw nothing but anger lurking beneath the emotionless expression he wore, "Erik I am sorry-

"This is not your fault," he assured her, his voice came out thickly, "you will write to Nadir immediately—Christine!" Her eyes had started to roam; they snapped back to him quickly, "you will not be married to that man. I swear it."

She nodded, swallowing nervously.

Erik reached for the suitcase and she followed him out the door. Madame Giry grabbed onto her arm as Christine struggled to walk, her legs felt like jelly underneath her. Erik was unraveling at the seams.

_Our story has only just begun, _he thought angrily as he approached the tunnel that would lead Christine and Madame Giry out to the empty alleyway of the Opera House. He would have taken them by the boat but he knew that Raoul de Chagny would notice. He would notice how they had left the Opera House and come back through the dressing room.

"I hate him," Christine wept weakly as she came towards Erik. He turned with a serious expression, he would not break down in front of her, "I will _never_ love him," she threw her arms around the taller man's waist, pressing her face closely to his chest. "Good God Erik, what have we done to deserve this?"

His heart stuttered and he handed Madame Giry the bag. Christine's frame was calling to him, boldly he wrapped his arms around her, in his head he could see that boy doing the very same thing, in his head he could see Christine crying as that disgusting Vincomte held her closely to his body and whispered words of adoration. It enraged him and impassioned him!

"Christine," he rasped, "I will not leave you, and you must not fall in love with him."

"I will not," she store and wiped her tears angrily, "I will never love him. I will wait for you Erik, but you must promise me that you will come!"

"Of course I will," he spoke through his teeth, "do you think I would leave you to that … thing?" She shook her head at him, "I will come for you." His eyes reddened. _Damn it, I must be strong for her. She is the one that will share the same roof as that boy_.

"Christine we must go," Madame Giry commanded gently.

"Goodbye Erik," she held him tighter.

He breathed in her scent. Then resigning he loosened his arms, "goodbye, Ange," Erik responded as his heart quickened, beating too hard against his ribs. And with that he was forced to release her. He could hardly swallow; there was a thick knot at his throat.

Madame Giry hauled Christine out roughly as the young girls fingers stiffened around her guardians sleeve. He struggled to watch her as she cried horribly, _loudly_, with tones of untainted anguish. Her hands came out towards him but Madame Giry dragged her into the darkness, struggling to soothe her.

Only after she was gone and out of hearing distance did Erik begin destroying everything in sight. Nadir watched from a corner as the masked man threw dishes and flipped tables over. He cringed as Erik drew out knives and hurtled them across the room dangerously, lodging them into furniture or managing to throw them into the lake. He remained silent even as Erik crumpled to his knees and pounded his palms against the cave floor.

"Erik do not lose control now," Nadir begged quietly and stepped forward. He placed one hand carefully on the masked man's shoulder. To his surprise Erik did not throw it away as he had mildly expected.

Instead, Erik opened his amber eyes, reeling in all his rage, and then he nodded obediently, "no one else will have her Nadir," he whispered hoarsely. Very slowly he came up to his feet and walked to the piano, collapsing on the bench.

**…**

"There you are," Raoul breathed a sigh of relief as Christine entered the manager's office. Her eyes were red, puffy, empty as they acknowledged him, or barely so, "the carriage is outside," his eyes shined at his fiancée, he smiled as she nodded, "you will be happy Christine. I promise you."

She turned silently without picking up her suitcase and walked towards the exit. The managers stared at the Vincomte with nervousness, Christine did not look as joyous as they would have expected. Madame Giry glared at Raoul as he sheepishly picked up the suit case and chased after the brunette.

Christine hardly felt her legs, or her toes. She couldn't think. Erik was somewhere below her feet, she imagined that he was thinking of the millions of different ways in which he could harm Raoul, she knew him enough to assume that much.

"Christine," Raoul's voice came from her left. She hardly noticed him, and when she did she winced, "come darling, the carriage is this way."

He did not touch her but it was as if he did. She silently followed him outside and found a beautiful black carriage with two white horses. She did not let any expression come upon her face as the man at the front jumped down and took her hand to help her onto the carriage.

"Thank you, sir," she nodded courteously at him. He blushed at her beauty and mumbled a quiet response which she could not catch.

Raoul climbed in after her and shut the carriage door. When he turned to stare at her he was shocked to find that she was staring at him. Her eyes were eerily empty. And he thought he would tremble from the strangeness of it.

"I want you to know something Raoul," her smooth voice did little to soothe him as the Carriage began moving.

"What is that Christine?"

"I will not love you. Whatever affection I might have held for you is gone. My heart is within that Opera House, not at the de Chagny estate."

He frowned at her, "you will continue with your music Christine. I understand your love for it, I would not keep you from the opera house. I know that is where your heart is."

Christine's eyes widened. Then she began to laugh at him. He shifted uncomfortably and reddened with embarrassment, when she got more control of herself she bit her lip and giggled, "you know nothing of my heart Monsieur." Her face grew very serious, "and you never will."

"You must give me a chance to prove my love to you Christine. I understand your apprehension," he looked at her nervously, "you have been locked away. I completely understand that you would be afraid to try something new outside of the world you know. But please give me a chance."

And all of a sudden she burst into laughter. He clenched his jaw, "you know nothing Raoul."

The sun had gone down by the time they reached his estate. Raoul instantly led Christine to her own room, knowing that she would not wish to walk around at the moment. He could see the exhaustion in her face.

"This is your room," Raoul brought her into it shyly. She stared around with disinterest. The walls were soft beige, the bed was white with ivory satin covers, "the moonlight casts a beautiful glow, do you not agree?" Raoul asked her with apprehension, hoping that she liked the room.

He was right about that. The lights were not on, but they did not have to be. The moonlight streamed in through the window. She noted that she had a balcony. And for a long moment she thought about the chances of jumping it. But they were on the second floor; she would undoubtedly break her ankle.

"Do you like it?" He asked, stopping in front of her.

Christine made no move to respond.

Raoul nodded, defeated, "I will send for you in the morning. You and I have the house to ourselves until tomorrow afternoon, my brother. You remember my brother, he will be stopping by. Good night Christine."

She did not respond.

Raoul escaped the bedroom shyly and left Christine alone. She did not wait to move towards the bed. She did not change out of her gown. The brunette female threw herself onto the mattress and fell asleep, dreaming of nothing.

In his room Raoul gritted his teeth and covered his face with his hands.

_The wedding must be as soon as possible, _he thought and ripped at the cravat at his chest. It went flying to the floor and he kicked off his shoes, _that way she will have to come to bed with me. Then she will love me, she will see all that I can give her both intimately and materialistically. Yes, Christine will love me then._

He too fell asleep. But he did dream unlike the woman in the room beside his.

He dreamed of a man with his hands wrapped around Christine's throat. Christine shutting her eyes in ecstasy as the man slid his arms around her waist and sang. Then the masked man flew up at him and removed his black shawl to reveal a white mask. Raoul could do nothing but stare at him in horror with his heart drumming viciously.

And finally the man wrapped his fingers on his throat and began to choke the life out of him. Yellow eyes stretched horrifically before him. Raoul cried and screamed. Christine appeared, watching with a delicate smile.

Raoul woke in a fright, sweating and panting for breath.

He looked to the doorway and found no one there.

He did not sleep for the rest of the night.

**…**

Erik would not sleep in peace tonight. He imagined that she had reached the de Chagny estate. And he imagined that Raoul de Chagny was thinking of all the different ways to make her smile. Erik smirked at this, he knew that she was probably giving him a hard time.

_And yet this provides me no solace, _he thought absent mindedly as the cat sat at his side with a bored gaze, _without knowing it she became the mistress of time. Time is awfully nonexistent without her here. I did not even notice it. And now that she has left I find myself feeling old, weary. Whatever she carried with her filled me with life, and now her absence has created a sort of abysmal air that my lungs refuse to take in. _

He could feel the knot at his throat tighten. He shut his eyes, hoping that the hallucinations would not begin.

"Erik, stay still," Nadir hissed.

_That's right, he is still here._

Erik hardly acknowledged Nadir as he bandaged his hands. The knuckles were bloody, and his palms were badly bruised.

"You need to hold it together," Nadir glared at him, angry with the day's events.

"I am holding it together Nadir," the phantasmal man assured with a small smile. Nadir shivered, "I am going to make them all pay. And then Christine and I will reunite, and then she and I will live as we did before the world stepped in. There will be nothing left for us to hide from each toher once they are all dead."

"You must not kill him, Erik," Nadir warned, he finished wrapping his right hand, "Christine does not want that."

"And why not!" Erik shot up from where he sat. The cat hissed at the suddenness of his movements as he began an awful pacing, "should he not die for his transgressions! He has forced her hand into marriage! He ought to die for that-

"She does not want you killing in her name Erik!" Nadir roared, he had finally had it. The younger man stilled and stared, "Are you so dense? It seems that whenever your anger gets the best of you you regress! You fool! You god damned fool!"

"Daroga calm yourself-

"I have had it with your stupidity!" He hissed and marched angrily towards the man, "do you not understand that murder is not the answer for everything. You become the beast you have tried so hard to suppress when it comes to her. When it comes to the one individual that wants you to be the angel you so adamantly show to her! And now you speak of murdering a boy in her name? Have you lost your mind!"

Erik lowered his amber gaze. A few moments of silence past as Nadir struggled to catch his breath, "what shall I do then Daroga?"

"You will wait like a grown man," Nadir glared, "I swear Erik, if you dare to make one movement against that boy in Christine's name I will make certain that she never see's you as an angel again. I will tell her of the man you keep in your chamber. She will never forgive you for any of it."

Erik's eyes flashed, "you would dare rip her away from me."

"You would be ripping her away yourself," Nadir gritted his teeth, "it is time you grow up. You will wait for her letter. And you will not leave this lair until then."

"How do you plan to stop me?" Erik straightened up. Nadir did not feel the least bit intimidated.

"I will be staying here Erik," Nadir informed him, ignoring the way Erik's eyes widened with rage, "if you dare leave until she has sent word then I pity you. I really do. I know what you would do; you would kill Raoul de Chagny in front of her if it meant he would die."

"God damn you Nadir!" Erik roared, "she is mine!"

Nadir did not respond. He simply stared at the amber eyed man with disinterest. Only when Erik's anger seemed to diminish did he speak, "if you are her angel than you must begin acting like it. You are a liar, a manipulator, and a hypocrite. I will not have Christine fall into your hands if you do not change Erik, she does not deserve lies, especially not from you."

Erik blinked with shock, fury, confusion… and offense, "I must kill to protect her."

"No longer, Erik," Nadir glared, "no more."

Erik smirked back at the challenge and walked to his piano and sat, "I am not just an Angel Nadir. I am also a Phantom. Not even you, with your sanctimonious logic, will change that," his face became grim as he began composing, "the boy will die the moment he touches her."

* * *

**Watch out Raoul. Keep your hands to yourself, - Kindergarden rules!**

**Christine must now fend for herself, let's see how she does in high society shall we? I have some strange things planned. :O So review! I am so excited to see what you think about how Christine will do under the de Chagny household. What do you hope to see? :) Maybe I'll throw something in there.**

**More importantly, what do you think about Nadir's attitude towards Erik? O_ o**

**It's ... 2:29. I had to update. Coludn't leave you all empty handed, review? :) **


	34. Society & Etiquette

**XXXIV**

"Christine," Raoul's voice came from outside her door. She stirred with a moan and sat up on the unfamiliar bed with annoyance. It was much too early to be awake, "darling, are you awake?"

She ran a hand through her hair with anger and stomped towards the door. When she pulled it open she found herself staring at Raoul de Chagny. He stared at her wild her and smirked, it reminded him so much of when she was younger, she could see the appreciation in his gaze, she would make sure to neaten it later.

"Good morning Christine, I thought I should fetch you, it is early—

"Much too early," she corrected, "is there something that calls my attention?"

He shook his head with embarrassment, "I thought you might wish to go for a walk. It is a beautiful morning."

"It is winter," she stated shortly. When he blushed and said nothing she sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "I will get dressed and then make my way down to you."

"I will meet you in the dining room, it is just down the stairs and then to the right. You will find it with ease."

She nodded and shut the door. Christine moved to her suitcase and pulled out a blue gown.

_I will make him regret bringing me here, _she thought defiantly as she slipped the gown over her head.

When she finished Christine went to the mirror and pulled her hair back severely away from her face. Her tresses fell in long waves down her back but to whoever would stare at her from the front it would look as if though she had the tightest hairstyle imaginable. And her eyes looked red and tired, yes this was perfect.

Christine made her way down the familiar hallway with a haughty air.

When she reached the stairs she listened for any sound of Raoul or anyone else. She heard nothing except for movement towards the right. That is where he told her the dining room would be.

When she entered she was not amazed to find that it was just as lavish as the resto f his home. There were beautifully ornate chairs around the very long dining room table. It was made of a glossy wood. There were five chairs along the longest side of the table and then one on the shorter ones. The room itself was the sunlight from outside. The floors were dark wood tiles and the walls were soft beige with white borders running around the bottom.

Raoul sat at the head of the table opposite of her. The sun was hitting the right side of his face. He had a plate in front of him with what appeared to be a piece of meat and bread, fruits in a separate bowl and water in a glass cup. As she stepped forward he stood and approached her.

"You look radiant," he observed gently, lying through his teeth. The truth was that she looked sickly. As if she were being starved of something. Her eyes were red and puffy and her stare was horribly vacant, and her hair, what was she doing with it? She had never been one to tame the wild curls.

He pulled out a chair for her, directly opposite of him, and she sat without thanking him for the courteous gesture. Raoul walked to his side of the table and began eating as she stared at the plate in front of her with confusion.

"Do you not like it?" He asked quietly, "I can get you something you would prefer."

"Why do I have so many utensils?" She stared with confusion and then growing annoyance.

"For etiquette purposes," he frowned, "do you not know how to use them?"

"I do not care to learn," she muttered and grabbed the bowl of fruits and picked up a slice of an apple with her fingers. A maid who entered stared at the young woman with shock as she popped the fruit into her mouth.

Raoul gaped, "Christine you must use the utensils."

"They are only fruits Raoul," she rolled her eyes and plucked out an orange slice, then began speaking without having swallowed, "it's not as if there is anyone to watch me except for you."

Raoul looked to the maid nervously, "is there something you needed?"

"Yes sir, Monsieur Phillipe sent you a note," she pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to the young Vincomte before excusing herself. Christine watched as he read the paper easily, he put it down and looked up to Christine.

"My brother will be coming with my father tomorrow tonight; I expect that we will be having dinner together. You are expected to be here."

"Of _course_ I am expected to be there," she laughed at him, he frowned, "but whether or not I will make the choice to be there is another story. I find that those who come from money are often the most vapid individuals."

"And how would you know us to be vapid Christine?" His tone became challenging, "since when have you surrounded yourself with enough 'people of money' to know that we are vapid?" When she glared he answered his own question, "are these lies that your guardian has told you?"

"He only speaks of what he knows."

"And how much could he possibly know Christine, the man seems to not come from a wealthy home. He is most likely uneducated-

"He is more intelligent then all of you put into one," she said with a challenging glare, "he understands the way things must be unlike yourselves, he has actually had challenges to get to where he is unlike you, Raoul."

"And where is that Christine?" He smirked at her arrogantly, "beneath an Opera House with only a young girl to keep him company?"

"And where are you Raoul?" She smiled sweetly, "in a lavish home with only the company of someone that is forced to be in your company? At the very least he had someone who _wanted_ to be with him."

Raoul's gaze dropped to his plate and he lifted the fork to his mouth. He chewed on the meat cautiously, letting Christine's words burn into him like a brand. He could understand her cruelty to some level, but he wanted it to stop before it went on any further. She would embarrass him in front of his family, he just knew it. She had a look in her eyes…

"You've forced this out of me," Christine murmured quietly as she noticed his quieted demeanor, then she took a small drink from the glass of water, Raoul raised his eyes slowly to her as she sat there with her eyes on the plate before her. She still had not eaten the food, "I never wished to be this way with you Raoul. But you have forced this."

Raoul said nothing to her and stood from where he sat. He left the plate there and passed by her without another word. He did not care to be in her company at that moment in time.

Christine took his absence and ate the food. She was pleased to be without the company of anyone. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She had to find a way to send a letter to Nadir telling him that she was alright. It was in her best interest, and Raoul's, to get in contact with Erik as soon as possible. She knew that he was not a very patient man.

For the rest of the day Christine sat in her room and thought of Erik. She knew that he was most likely sleeping.

_What does he look like when he sleeps? Does he look more peaceful or does he continue to hold that stern expression that has grown to be so natural to me now? _She wondered endlessly as she hummed with boredom. She wanted to sing but did not wish to draw attention to herself.

That night she fell asleep with thoughts of Erik.

**…**

The next day was spent very similarly to the first except that Raoul did not have breakfast with her. He did however send her a note informing her that he would see her later on in the afternoon.

She practiced singing and found herself struggling. She wanted Erik's direction, but she managed on her own. Ever so often she would hear whispers outside her door as she sang; she imagined that it was the servants that were listening outside her door as she sang, and so she sang them a song. Of course they did not know that she knew of their presence.

When the evening came and it was time to eat Raoul went in search of Christine. He found her in her bedroom combing her hair with her fingers and staring in the mirror. She was so strangely beautiful, she wore an ivory gown that hugged her waist wonderfully and swept down to the floor. Her pale skin was almost the color of the dress itself.

"Christine, my father and brother are here, would you please join me?"

Her eyes slid to him and she raised a brow, "do I have any choice?"

He sighed heavily at her, irritated by her attitude towards him but saying nothing.

Christine stood gracefully and made her way towards him. He smiled when she followed him out the door and down the stairs towards the dining room.

Philippe de Chagny was the first one that she saw. He looked just as handsome as his brother but with a stronger air of confidence then Raoul. He wore a red cravat while Raoul wore blue. He was grinning at her as she entered the room, the corners of his eyes pressed together with his flawless grin. His blonde hair was shaggier then Raoul's and he stood taller and more muscular than his younger brother. Wherever Raoul was delicate looking, and young, his brother was the opposite. For a moment she almost smiled at the man.

Almost.

There was a woman standing beside Philippe, she imagined that this was his wife, when he spoke he introduced her as just that. She was elegant, and appeared almost disdainful of Christine. Her eyes were blue and her lips full and pink. Her hair was just as blonde as Raolu's mother and for a moment Christine found her to be a spitting image of the woman.

And then there was their father. He had grey hair on his head with a slight curl towards the forehead. And his lips were fuller then that of his sons. His cheeks were red and full, wonderfully pink, he smiled at her gently.

"My goodness Miss Daae," Philippe stepped forward and moved his hands towards her, he kissed her knuckles and Raoul glared at the sight, Christine seemed shocked by the gesture too, "you look magnificent."

And she did.

She had taken care to not look so severe; instead she allowed the brushing of her fingers to smooth the curls out into gentle waves. She pinned her hair to the back of her head, but allowed her hair to breathe, surrounding her head like a small pillow. She smiled the smallest smile she could manage and responded, "thank you Philippe, it is very good to see you again after so many years."

"Good evening Miss Daae," Raoul's father blushed at her as her eyes landed on him, he could not forget the last time he had seen her in his home, the way she had been so harshly dismissed, "it is a pleasure to see you again."

"Good evening Monsieur de Chagny," she curtsied at him but did not give her his hand.

"Good evening Miss Daae," Philippe wife curtsied. Her eyes roamed Christine.

"Good evening," Christine responded, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

When the woman did not respond Raoul took the silence as a moment to speak.

"Shall we eat?"

"Certainly," she responded for them all and moved without taking his arm towards the table. Raoul took a seat in the middle of the long dining table and signaled with his eyes for Christine to sit across from him. At the same time Phillipe sat opposite of his father who took the head of the table. Philippe's wife sat beside Raoul and almost in front of Christine. _Is it ironic that no one is sitting beside me? _She thought with amusement. Philippe was to her right, and his father to her left, Raoul and Jessica sat before her.

"Miss Daae," Raoul's father grinned at her, "I hear that the wedding is planned for this summer, what do you think?"

She grinned back at him, dazzling them all, "I think it is a spectacularly horrific idea."

"C-Christine—" Raoul stuttered stupidly as Philippe chuckled and their father stared at his son with confusion, Philippe's wife, Jessica, raised a brow, "you should not speak that way-

"Oh Raoul, come now dear," she looked to him, "do you not think it is a horrible idea to marry in the summer? In the sun and with all that sweat. Imagine, all of Paris would be able to see through the fabric of my dress-

"Christine!" He exclaimed.

Philippe laughed harder and their father reddened at her audacity, "Miss Daae I am sure that no one would be able to see through the fabric."

"Oh you would be surprised," she smirked at him, "imagine all the men of Paris that would show up to that wedding."

"Christine!" Raoul looked like he was going to vomit from shock.

_I am a performer Raoul, do not forget that, _she thought at him.

Philippe was coughing wildly and a maid was giving him a glass of water as he struggled to contain his laughter. Monsieur de Chagny was struggling to not envision the pretty young woman with a white dress clinging to her sweating body, he reddened some more and called for a servant to fetch them all a glass of water. Raoul looked as if though he were praying that God would smite him right there, Christine hoped so.

"So Christine," Philippe wiped a tear, "tell me why is it that my brother has not given you a ring?"

She looked at her naked fingers and then looked to Raoul, "yes Raoul, why have you not given me a ring?"

He did not reply, instead he called for a servant to bring them their meals.

As they waited Jessica spoke, "is it not odd, Christine," she stared at her seriously, "that you are sitting all by yourself on that side of the table?"

Christine looked to her left, and then to her right, "I had noticed it earlier."

"If Madame de Chagny were here she would be at your side." Jessica explained.

"Is this some sort of hierarchy seating?" Christine asked with confusion.

"Indeed it is," Jessica replied.

Christine shrugged at this, "it is all quite fine, I have a Phantom at my side."

Raoul choked on his water and his brother raised a brow at him. Christine bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

_If Erik were here, _she thought with amusement, _he would be complaining about the fact that there is not a single instrument in the room. Or perhaps about the fact that the lighting, as dim as it is, is too bright, most likely, he would be thundering on and on about how ridiculous it is that one must eat at such a large and expensive looking table._

Servants came in and began the task of setting plates of food in front of them. They set utensils before them all in a very specific order, Christine watched with wonder and then began to grow more confused.

Philippe de Chagny stared at his steak with hungry eyes and Raoul still looked mortified.

"What is the point of so many utensils?" She asked boldly, looking to Monsieur de Chagny for the answer, he stared at her with confusion, "should I not just eat?"

"It is a matter of class and mannerisms Miss Daae," he told her gently, almost embarrassed for her, "it is proper."

"But I am hardly proper," she stated and slouched, Philippe stifled a laugh as she let out a groan, a very unladylike one at that, "I truly do not need so many utensils, this is completely ridiculous."

"Christine! Do not speak that way," Raoul scolded her.

"Excuse me Raoul?" She glared, "I am _baseborn_, I may say what I like. I am not one of your subjects-

"Christine that is not what I meant," he pinched the bridge of his nose with irritation and his father glared at her. _How dare this woman talk that way to a man? _

"Of course it is," she grabbed the wrong fork and stabbed it into the meat roughly, then used another fork to hold it in place as she ripped it apart, "I am not a child. I am a _grown woman_, remember? And I will explain myself more thoroughly now," she watched him heatedly, "_you_ all need these utensils to feel as if though you are above the rest of us. The truth of the matter is that this is all ridiculous, stupid, and immature. You do not need so many forks, and knives to eat your food, for heaven's sake it is a danger!"

"Good lord," Jessica sighed heavily as the brunette complained like a mad woman.

"Look," she grabbed three of the knives in one hand, "this is just asking for a massacre of some sort Raoul."

"This is very true," Philippe agreed and then shoved all his utensils away but one knife and one fork, he grinned as he encouraged her ranting and raving, "take lesson Raoul, your wife might teach you something. You complained of the same when you were younger."

"Yes," Christine looked to Philippe, "but our dear Raoul has lost all of his charm."

Raoul glared at his brother for cheering her on. Jessica did the same, and Monsieur de Chagny spoke, his voice was more serious then she had heard it in a long time, "Miss Daae, you will do well if you learn from my son's wife and not speak so freely amongst men."

Christine flushed with rage at this and stood from the table sharply. Raoul stared at her with shock as she glared at his father openly, she had never had someone speak to her as such. Putting her down for being a female! Her heart was racing within her chest, "and you will do well to remember that I do not care for what you, or your lovely wife, or your son, think of me. I will speak as freely as I wish; women like me do not care to obey the rules set forth by men _against_ us."

"You insolent girl!" He stood up and slammed his fist into the table; he was as red as a tomato. Philippe stood and so did Raoul, "how dare you disrespect me in my own home!"

"Does it embarrass you to think that a woman would so boldly speak her mind out against such asinine etiquette? Or is it that you dislike my critique of people with money running through their veins?"

"Christine stop it," Raoul urged her and came around the table. He took hold of her arm but she promptly ripped it out of his grasp, "come darling you've had too much wine," he tried to persuade her to move with gentle nudges on her back but she refused as his father raged at her from where he stood.

"I have not had wine," she spoke with a glare at his father, "I have had too much stupidity for one day, Raoul. They are two very different things my dear."

Raoul's father clenched his jaw, "You are a bratty little girl who is ungrateful for the opportunity that my son has given her. You, a little opera singer, should be more than pleased at this opportunity-

"Then perhaps you should send for Carlotta," she suggested with a roll of her eyes, "I am certain that she would absolutely love the prospect of becoming part of your family."

"You insolent girl!" He thundered again and suddenly stormed to her. Christine's eyes bulged and suddenly Raoul was trying to move her out of the way, but it was already too late.

His father's hand came down so sharply on her cheek that the sting did not come until after she realized what happened.

But by then she was already on the floor, clutching her face and Philippe was shoving his father harshly away from her.

"How dare you!" Raoul yelled as he began pulling her to her feet. She could hardly see through the tears in her eyes.

"That stupid girl!" His father roared from where Philippe had him crushed to the wall, Jessica was on her feet and staring wide eyed at the man she had once thought so gentle, "she will never be like one of us."

Christine blinked the tears away, _I will not cry in front of them! Do not dare Christine, _she yelled at herself and dared to glare at the man in the eye. He huffed and puffed angrily from where he stood, pressed against the wall by his own son who was staring at him with a horrified expression.

"Of course I will never be like you. I was raised to have more intelligence and morality then you could amass in five lifetimes," Raoul's eyes widened and Jessica smiled quietly, but it did not come to the surface.

"Be quiet or I will strike you again," their father warned, fisting his hands.

"You must cut out my tongue to silence me _sir,_" she reached angrily for the collection of knives that the servants had laid out beside her plate, "perhaps these may be of use to you? Good manners and respectability matter, right?" She seethed, "it only fits that they would count even as you strike a woman silent."

He gave a yell of rage and she stormed past him, only rubbing her cheek when she was marching up the stairs.

_His father struck me, in front of them all! _And when the silence came only then did she realize that she was in the room Raoul had given her.

_The world is a cruel place when you are different, my God Erik, _she thought as tears threatened to fall, _what you must have gone through…_

Raoul burst into the room and was instantly before her, sitting her down onto the bed and gently rubbing her cheek with the back of his hand, trying to ease the hotness there, but his flesh was not cool enough to bring down the heat of where the sting had landed.

"Christine, Christine I am so sorry," he apologized as she blinked with shock.

"He struck me," she whispered. The blow to her cheek was intensifying as the moments went on.

"You cannot talk like that to these men," he shook his head at her with tears in his hazel eyes, "they will not hesitate to silence you. I – I tried to warn you Christine you are not with your guardian anymore you are in high society. You cannot act as you wish, not unless you are in the privacy of your own room or with me. You cannot behave like that when we have company," he begged her to understand. The welt was rising; her pores were redder then the rest of her flesh where his father had dared to strike her. He could feel his hands twitching to go down there and bloody his father's entire countenance; he had _hit_ his future wife! Christine's head had whipped around as if it were going to snap off, "I could kill him." He muttered as he rubbed her cheek, trying to soothe her. Her blue eyes were wide and shocked, but not at his words, if not at what had transpired. "Please say something, please Christine," he croaked.

She thought of what to say to him, "is this a common occurrence?"

"My father is an animal," he shook his head furiously, "he will not get away with this Christine," she stared at him as though she were lost, "please do not fear me, I would never do this to you." She did not respond, she just stared, her blue eyes disbelieving, "please say something Christine, talk to me."

"Leave me Raoul," her voice has come out as impassively as she felt, "I wish to be alone tonight."

"Christine please I must get you someone for this, we must ensure that you did not harm yourself when you fell. Does your head hurt? I must send for a doctor first thing in the morning"

"Raoul_-_

"Please Christine!"

She stilled, "Yes, yes, Raoul please send for a doctor," her eyes became wide, "I think he should come very early in the morning Raoul, very early. I feel a headache; I fear I did hit myself."

"Christine yes, yes I will send a note this very moment," he stood with worried eyes, "but there is no one that can receive notes at this moment. No one would be awake for to take appointments-

Her eyes slid up to his, "there is one."

* * *

**I am, INSANELY, proud of this chapter. **

**I did not want Christine to come off as sobbing her eyes out at what Raoul's father did. I imagined her struggling to not cry but managing and then realizing just how out of tune with 'society' she is. I also wanted to make sure that it was kind of clear how Erik, in sheltering her, never really taught her of the way other people, like Raoul's family, live. Christine is basically lost at sea, and she has picked up Erik's habits of never really stopping herself. I wanted to make it clear that the only person who can ever really just calm her down or force her to just listen, is Erik, Raoul and the Vincomte's hold no control of her wild spirit. That is all Erik and herself. **

**SO, I hope you picked up on the little symbolism I tossed in there when Christine grabbed the knives of those with class. I always thought the whole etiquette thing was a waste of time, but to each their own. And I felt that this was a perfect opportunity to have Christine go on a tangent about how weird it is to use so many different knives and forks to eat, because honestly, I don't get it. **

**SO REVIEW :) I Hope you enjoyed that burst of Christine, and Jessica silent appreciation for her blunt rant. And I hope it made you giggle or laugh, "I have the Phantom at my side" **


	35. Not Your Angel

**Chapter XXXV**

Roaul paced energetically in the lavish living room while his father stared at him with annoyance.

"You had no right to strike her," Raoul repeated for the fifth time.

"I had all the right in the world," his father countered and took a drink of the wine in his glass, "just as you have the right. When a woman steps out of line she must be reminded of her place. Who does the little opera singer think she is, talking to the master of this home in that manner?"

"You have not been the master of this home for a while, father," Raoul glared, "you are hardly ever here anymore. Mother spends all her time in the company of her other friends because you no longer speak to her except to complain!"

"Quiet yourself boy," his father glared and uncrossed his legs, then came to a stand, "do not forget that I can strike you as well. Now get out of my sight and watch the door. The Persian should be here to check on your little singer in no time."

Raoul turned without another word and stomped out of the room.

He did not want to go into Christine's room and disturb her. He knew that she needed her rest, she had told him, before she fell asleep, that her head was pounding miserably. He did not wish to stir her and have her in pain again. And so he waited.

In no time at all a knocking came from the door. Raoul strode to it anxiously and pulled it open, not waiting for the servants to do it. He could not wait. He needed to know that she was oaky as soon as possible.

Nadir Khan stood there with a frantic look in his deep-set brown eyes. His eyes looked jittery as they made Raolu's hazel gaze.

"Good morning, vicomte," Nadir greeted politely, albeit a bit impatiently. Raoul quickly ushered him inside with a frantic waving of his hand. The Persian moved into the home quietly and respectfully but the urgency in his stride was indicating, very plainly to Raoul, that the man wanted nothing more than to bolt up to wherever Christine was.

"What seems to be the problem vicomte," the Persian shivered at the warmth in the home and clutched the bag in his hand tightly, "is there something wrong with Christine? You sent me word last night that you request my presence first thing in the morning."

"Yes, yes," Raoul led him up the stairs, "you see Christine took a spill last night. She began complaining of a strong headache and I feared that something might be wrong. I had to call someone and she wanted it to be you."

"I see," Nadir struggled to keep his calm, but the look in Raoul de Chagny's eyes was worrying him more. The young man looked nervous, almost more nervous than Nadir.

They made their way to the second floor, turned a corner and began moving down a lavish hallway, "how did she fall?"

"She will be sleeping," Raoul evaded the question horribly, "I imagine she will be in good spirits to see a familiar face. This is her bedroom," he stopped in front of an ivory colored door and put his hand on the golden doorknob.

When the door opened Raoul allowed Nadir to step in first, he followed and shut the door behind them.

She lay beneath a white satin bed sheet with a nightgown that was colored pink. Her long chocolate hair was messy as ever, and for a moment it seemed to him that there was nothing wrong with her. But the closer he came the more he noticed the frown on her face, and the slight twitching of her hand. She twisted a bit with obvious discomfort.

"Christine?" Nadir stepped to the other side of the bed. His eyes bulged at the sight of her red cheek. She winced and tried to comfortably press her cheek to the pillow, "what is this?" Nadir hissed and glared at Raoul de Chagny, Christine stirred slightly.

"I did not strike her if that is what you are insinuating," Raoul's eyes became defensive, the hazel lit up with flames, "I would never hurt her in that way."

"Nadir?" Christine opened her eyes very slowly, and gasped as the brown eyes made their way down to her, "Nadir!" She gasped and launched up off the bed and embraced the man quickly. He blushed as she shamelessly crushed herself to him, "oh God, Nadir, Nadir! I have missed you!"

"Christine, are you alright?" He frowned as she pulled away and clutched her head, "does your head hurt?"

"Yes, quite a bit," she tried to control her excitement and dramatically slumped down to the bed, "I am so happy to see you," she smiled softly and looked up at him. His brown skin reddened very slightly at the sight of the red imprint on her cheek.

"Vicomte de Chagny," Nadir forced out politely, "may you give us privacy for a moment?"

"Certainly," Raoul looked to Christine sadly and nodded before turning and shutting the door.

As soon as he was out of the room Christine launched herself at Nadir once again, knocking the breath out of him.

"What has happened Christine? What is this?" He frantically asked as he pulled her away from him and looked at her cheek, she rolled her eyes dismissively and grinned at him instead, as if nothing had happened.

"I am so happy to see you Nadir-

"Christine," he shook her once, forcing her back to reality, "what happened? Have you lost your senses? You have been hit!"

"Yes," she nodded and swallowed a bit awkwardly, "Raoul's father did not appreciate my outspoken views and struck me. Can you believe that?"

"Yes I can," he shook his head with a deep frown, "women do not speak out against the rules society has set forth for them Christine. I understand that Erik has… strangely taught you to defend yourself while trying to control you but you are not dealing with Erik, Christine—

"How is he?" She breathed softly, her heart contracted at the mention of his name and she sat back down on the bed as if the breath had been knocked out of her completely, "I have not been able to send you a letter and yesterday was the perfect chance to try and contact you Nadir, you must send him my apologies."

"Erik is patiently waiting for a moment to come to you," Nadir shook his head, "I fear he will kill someone if that moment does not come soon."

"He will not kill anyone," she shook her head at Nadir and stood from where she sat, "Erik knows better, here," she reached for her drawer and pulled it open, "I have written him a letter already, please do not read it Nadir it is private. Give it to him and tell him that I miss him, please," she handed him the note gracefully.

Nadir tucked it away in his bag and began taking out tools of different sorts, "Christine, I must ask you something private and I would appreciate your full honesty," he nervously let his eyes catch hers, she cocked her head to the side with confusion, "has Raoul… has he… how do I put this?" He ran a hand over his face, "was it really Raoul's father that hit you? Did Raoul make any attempt to force himself upon you?"

"No!" Her eyes widened, "no, it was Raoul's father," she frowned then, "he was saying very rude things Nadir, he said that I must learn to bequiet in the presence of men. I do not know what came over me but when he struck me I did not cry. I felt as if though I had not been in my body," her eyes stressed this by widening, "and then I had grabbed onto the knives on the table."

"What?"

"Yes, I do not know what happened. I had been teasing Raoul all day, acting subtly defiant... and then when I saw the knives and the forks I felt as if though they were comedians, it was ridiculous Nadir. I did not understand it... Raoul's father made it clear to me that it was a matter of etiquette. After he hit me I grabbed the knives and told him that he must silence me by cutting out my tongue."

Nadir's eyes bulged.

"I hope I do not have to encounter him again. I doubt that I will be able to bite my tongue against saying what I must."

"You must learn," Nadir knelt in front of her and examined the red mark on the side of her face, "does it sting?"

"Only slightly," she sighed, "I am glad he did it. This is exactly the moment I have been waiting for. I needed to see a familiar face Nadir-

"Christine," he opened a round case and put a strange salve onto his fingers, "turn your face towards me," she did as commanded and gave him her reddened cheek. Carefully he applied the soothing property to her skin. She seemed strange to him, as if she were not really here. She seemed dazed and ecstatic, eager to talk but not really paying attention to what was happening around her.

"I want to leave this place," Christine whispered, her eyes flashed to the scalpel beside her, "I have not heard music for two days now and feel that I am going to lose my mind. It feels as if though years have passed Nadir. I fear I am losing my mind. I cannot be here any longer-

"Christine, we will find a way to get you out of this mess, I promise you."

"I miss him," her hand began inching for the scalpel Nadir had laid out. He did not take notice, "I fear that if I do not get out of here I will soon find myself in a very unhappy marriage."

Subtly Christine clutched the scalpel, "Christine we will not let your life become one in which you are at the mercy of these people. Do not fear."

She nodded quietly and then silently watched Nadir as he began to put his materials away. She hoped that he would not notice that the scalpel was missing. When he put the last of his ointments and materials away he simply sat beside her. She discreetly pushed the scalpel under her pillow and then sat very still.

"I tried to talk to Erik, to make him understand that killing was not the way to go about anything. But in typical Erik fashion he sees only a permanent solution."

"Do not tell him," she whispered and looked to Nadir with pleading eyes, "If he knows he will kill Raoul's father. I cannot have it, that on my conscious… I will not have him murder in my name Nadir."

"I cannot lie to him."

"Simply omit information," she pleaded, "tell him that you came to see me after I complained of a headache. And that that was all I had, a headache."

"I am the world's worst liar, Christine," Nadir frowned, "but I will try for your sake. I do not want blood spilled. There are better ways to go about this."

"Exactly." She whispered and looked to the door, "Nadir I think it is best you leave. Raoul will grow suspicious of our conversation and begin to listen. And you must return and give my letter to Erik."

" Yes, yes," he stood hurriedly and ensured that the note was in his pocket. Christine stared up at Nadir with sadness and a gentle smile, "goodbye Christine, please mind your tongue. If I return I want it to be because we are getting you out of this home, not because you have been struck for imitating Erik's outspoken behavior."

She smirked and nodded. Nadir took her hands and gave them a light squeeze. And just like that, he was gone. Christine succumbed to her dreams once again, this time she smiled; Erik was going to receive her note. Beneath the pillow she twisted the scalpel over and over.

If there was no way to save her from a horrible fate then she would end it herself. Erik would simply have to forgive her if it came to it.

**…**

"Please-s-stop. I c-cannot—

"You are pathetic," the masked man growled and once again allowed the flames to lick at the flesh of the blonde male, Jonathan screamed with horror as the flames burned his knees. The skin seared with the heat and the last of his hair burned off. Smoke rose, "they did this to me when I was just ten years old and I did not shed one tear," the amber eyes flashed, "but then again, I had grown accustomed to it."

"You beast!" Jonathan lashed out and trembled in the chair, the flame was removed, "kill me! Just kill me!"

"I will," Erik vowed, "but I find myself more and more irritated with you as the days go on. The thought of men touching her does not let me rest at night. It is all your doing."

"I never touched her!" Jonathan sobbed. His bruised eyes searched out the masked man. His swollen lips were covered with mucus, saliva, puss and blood.

"You did, you harmed her," Erik glared and grabbed a fistful of Jonathan's hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck. Easily he reached for the blade at his side and pressed it dangerously against the young male's jugular, Jonathan hissed at the cold steel, "your death is coming boy. Very soon I will come in here and end your miserable life."

Erik allowed the tip of the blade to dig into his skin, just below his ear. Jonathan whimpered and blubbered as he dug it inwards. His hands twisted violently in the ruthlessly tight bonds. Erik grimaced as the boy shrieked and sobbed and groaned. He removed the blade angrily.

"You have grown boring." He informed him, "perhaps tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow I will end you," Jonathan blubbered and hung his head. The shaggy and matted blonde hair dropped over his face and blood ran down his bruised and pale neck.

Erik envisioned Christine as a child, smiling and calling him angel. _Angel, how laughable._

"She thinks I am good," Erik dropped the knife and clenched his jaw, "and I want to be that for her."

"Then l-let me go," Jonathan begged with tears in his eyes. The purple that surrounded them flared as blood rushed to his face from the tears, "just let me go."

"I want to be good for her," Erik's voice darkened, "but there are something's that cannot be changed. This is not a fairytale, Boy," he stepped forward and glared down at the naked male who was sobbing so hard that he could hardly breathe, "this is not the part where I come to my senses."

"For C-C-Christine," Jonathan begged, "please-please-please-

"She will have to forgive me," Erik murmured, looking off into the distance, imagining her as a child, how she looked at him as an angel incapable of hurting anyone if not for self defense, "there will never be a time when I regret doing this to you," Erik grabbed his hair again and tilted his head back, glared at him, hoping Jonathan could see him despite the bloated flesh around his eyeballs, "there will never be a time when I beg her for forgiveness for what I've done to you. If she should ever find you, alive, or dead, I will never feel remorse for this," Jonathan whimpered as Erik sneered at him, "you are nothing to me but a body. I will do with you whatever I wish, your life means nothing!"

"Please! Have m-mercy!"

"Mercy?" Erik growled, his eyes widened with rage, "damn you," Jonathan's thighs quivered as his shaking grew harder, the rage in the man's voice was making his heart accelerate, "I am not your God, and I am not _your_ angel! -

"Erik!" Nadir's voice stopped the masked man's rant. He frowned and glared at the walls, "come out from wherever you are! I bring news of her!"

In Erik's home Nadir turned over and over, looking for any signs of the masked man. Wherever Erik was he knew that he would hear him. Or at least he hoped so. He thumbed the note restlessly as he awaited the phantasmal man to appear.

"Erik! If you do not-

"What is it Daroga?"

The voice sliced the air. The Persian whirled around and gasped horribly at the sight of Erik towering over him. The white mask gleamed at him and the unmasked side of his face was shrouded in darkness.

"Allah! What in the world," Nadir clutched his heart, "why must you appear so strangely, can you not warn me?"

"What news do you bring?" Erik ignored and clasped his hands behind himself tightly, "spit it out Daroga or I will choke you where you stand-

"I went to see her," he swallowed nervously, his heart still beat forcefully against his ribs, "I went to see Christine, I received word last night that she was not feeling well."

"What?" Erik's voice was like glass, "and you did not think to inform me? Truly Daroga I sometimes wonder why I have left you alive for so long! You did not contact me?"

"It was very late Erik and I was not going to come all this way. I went there first thing in the morning to the de Chagny estate. The young vicomte opened the door and led me to Christine's room," Nadir noticed the tightening of Erik's eyes, "she was sleeping when I found her."

_She is quite beautiful when she is resting so peacefully, _Erik did his best to keep his calm as the man before him continued recounting the story. All he wanted to do was choke the Persian, _how dare he not warn me of this before hand? I could have found a way to get into the home but he dared to go without me? _

"She woke and immediately embraced me upon sight, she seemed strange. She was ecited, and slightly on edge. She seemed distant at the same time, as if though she did not know what to say and was struggling to contain her excitement. It was very strange," Nadir averted his gaze, "she had a headache. Or so she claimed but I believe that she was simply lying in order to have a familiar face show up."

Erik's eyes narrowed, "why do you avert your gaze from me?"

Nadir looked at Erik and ignored the question, "she wanted me to give you this note. I have not read it but I imagine that—

Erik snatched it away without listening to more of his ranting and unfolded it. Inside her beautiful handwriting greeted him like an old friend, familiar but hardly seen.

_Erik, _

_words cannot express what your absence is doing to me. I do not want you to worry for me when I say that. I just want you to understand how much I need to be by your side. I also pray that you have forgiven me for accepting Raoul's hand in marriage. I do these things only to protect you from a fate that would destroy me. I would much rather remain empty then know you are gone from this world._

_Raoul has been a nuisance. And this home smells of wine, and perfume. It is intoxicating, but not in a good way, _Erik let out a smirk, _it smells as if though they had rubbed every corner of the home with flowers. I miss the scent of the lake that runs through our home. _

_They plan to have a summer wedding; I assume they wish to get this over with as quickly as possible. I am – in the meantime- doing my best to make a fool out of myself. Hopefully Raoul will become disgusted and never want anything to do with me again. But I fear that he grows more enthralled with this. Perhaps I should behave like the most proper lady. He seems to like women without inhibition. _

_Ange, I need to see you. I am starving for music. If you come you must come at night, but most importantly you must find a way to get up to the second floor. _

Erik glared at the paper, _there is a simple way,_ he thought, _I can kill them all and make my way inside the home. _He continued reading:

_Do not think of killing them all, I know that that is the most viable option in your head. But I do not want any bloodshed at all Erik. _

"Christine," he forced out through his teeth and rolled his eyes.

_I am on the second floor, my door is colored ivory. I will lock it; I fear that Raoul will come into the bedroom at night. Knock as softly as you possibly can Ange, I will open the door for you. But you must be gone before the morning. Come to me as soon as you are able and no earlier. I will not have you caught in your attempt to rush. _

_I miss you._

_Christine. _

Erik folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. When he turned he found the cat staring at him by Nadir's side. Nadir was staring at it with confusion.

"Have you named it?" He looked up to Erik who walked forward and scooped to pick up the cat gracefully, when he straightened up he allowed the caught to lazily rest on his shoulder.

"She is named Ayesha," the cat purred at him, "I must go to her tonight Daroga."

"Erik, perhaps tonight is not the best of choices," Nadir thought of the reddened cheek Christine had, if Erik saw that everyone in that house would be killed, he knew it, "perhaps you should wait until tomorrow night?"

"No."

"Yes, Erik," Nadir sighed and pinched the bridge of his own nose, "wait until tomorrow night. She was not feeling well and will need rest. It will be strange if she wakes in a jubilant mood after being so sick. Allow her tonight to rest and go see her tomorrow." Nadir hoped Erik would take his advice. _If he sees the red mark on her, _he thought with a wary gaze, _it will be Raoul de Chagny's neck._

"Fine," Erik glared, "tomorrow night I will go to her. Now, if you have nothing else to say to me then you may be of some use. Describe with the utmost detail the layout of the home Daroga, I will not get lost in my endeavor."

Nadir began describing the estate to Erik.

* * *

**Hold on Christine! He's coming for you soon! **

**:O I had so much fun finally letting out that piece of Erik. I had been thinking for some time of some things that also bother me about POTO stories and one of them is that Erik always... changes. I did think that Erik would change certain things for Christine but I felt that Erik is also NOT normally sane, that is just the truth of it. And I felt that to him what he is doing is right, and not even Christine would keep him from avenging someone hurting her so horribly. With Buquet, and Raoul, I felt that Erik is probably thinking they did not actually get to do anything, but Jonathan did cause the most harm to her and that is simply not acceptable to him. And I imagined that he would grow angry that the fact that Christine thinks of him as an angel because it puts more pressure on him to be good when he knows very well that there are some things that he cannot do, not even for her. **

**His love for her (in this story at least) keeps him on the less sane side because he will NOT tolerate someone harming her, not even for her own sake. In this story I do not intend to make Erik perfect for Christine. Or for the readers, he is just... not that character here. **

**I really hope that you all liked this chapter :) It was a little simple, but I also wanted to indicate to the fact that Christine is also losing her shit a little. I think that it was pretty obvious how, so :/ Let's hope she doesn't go full on nuts, Nadir is even noticing it a little bit. **

**And also thank you to Million for pointing out that I misspelled Vicomte - I have this awful habit of writing it "VINcomte" sorry about that haha!**

**Review? :) What are some of your complaints about FF stories with POTO? **


	36. Lessons in Pleasure

**Chapter XXXV**

"Do you like it?" Raoul asked warily as he stared at Christine from across the dining table, she chewed at the cake very carefully, "I had someone go out and get it for you early this morning."

"It's very good," she commented simply and took another bite of the cake. It was sweet and yet not sickly so. It was light enough to where she was almost certain she would be able to have two more plates of it, "thank you."

"Certainly," Raoul smiled with pleasure, "does your cheek pain you?"

"No," she shook her head slowly and raised her gaze, "Nadir did a very good job."

"Yes, he is a fine doctor."

"Yes," she agreed, "should I ask someone to go fetch the salve he had for me? I expect that it will not be the last time I shall need it, what do you think?"

Raoul's hand tightened on the fork in his hand, "Christine, my father will not lay a hand on you ever again. I promise."

She narrowed her eyes, "I do not understand you Raoul," he looked up at her with confusion, "how is it that the boy I knew became this cowardly infant before me now," he winced and she felt herself taking pity but continued, "how is it that you allow yourself to be guided so easily by your most vain emotions?"

"I do not know what it is that you are referring to," Raoul chewed quietly, hoping that that comment on its own would end the conversation in its entirety. But, as he suspected, she continued.

"I do not love you, you know this," Christine searched his eyes from where she sat. He was avoiding looking at her. It was as if he feared what she would see, "I've never loved you the way you love me Raoul. I understand that it is difficult to grasp that concept, but you know it is the truth."

"You will come to love me Christine," he stated and looked up at her, "if you can care for your guardian there is no reason why you cannot love me."

She smirked, "there was a point in time when I feared that. When I feared that I would come to love you. I felt in my heart that it would be a betrayal, but I realize that that will never happen, you are too selfish."

He glared at her, "selfish? And what of him? Keeping you locked up like a bird."

"You can see it as that," she shrugged, no longer caring to debate that topic with him, "but I did not feel as if thought I was caged. At least not until you began to fill my heads with ridiculous ideas of rebellion, I was so foolish," Christine shook her head with annoyance.

A long moment of silence passed between the two of them. Christine had the urge to lock herself up in the bedroom again but knew that there was nothing there to entertain her. Of course she could attempt to sleep, but she knew that it would not come to her.

"I only want to save you," Raoul whispered, very slowly and very quietly. Her eyes snapped up to him, his hands were trembling as he stood, "I cannot understand what it is that you do not understand. How do you not see how wrong it is that he keeps you on a leash. He has damaged you so much Christine and you adamantly believe that you are right. But you are _so_ wrong," he shook his head, staring at the table as he leaned onto it with his fist, "but I will not let you rot with him."

Christine's heart gave a stutter and he looked up to her as if he had heard it.

"What would you say if Mademoiselle Meg Giry told you that her guardian does not let her have friends, and that he follows her wherever he goes, that he is a murderer and a fiend?" Christine could not utter one word in response. He smirked at her, "you would instantly tell her that she must leave him. And yet you condemn me for doing the same with you."

Raoul walked past her without saying anything else.

Christine sat there for a long time, unsure of what she should do. His hypothetical presentation weighed heavy on her mind. But even if it made sense to her why Raoul thinks she is in grave danger she could not shake her passionate thoughts for Erik away.

"Well," a feminine voice came from behind her, "I see you are doing much better."

Christine turned and noticed Jessica de Chagny behind her. She stood and gave a polite curtsy which the young woman returned, "how do you do?"

"Well, I am well," Jessica sounded slightly exhausted, and her skin was beaded with sweat, "may I take a seat?"

"Certainly," Christine murmured and took a seat cautiously, observing the stunning blonde, Jessica wiped at her forehead, "are you quite alright? You seem flushed."

Jessica smirked at her, "yes. Philippe is to blame."

Christine cocked her head to the side, "I do not understand."

Jessica stared at her with shock for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. Christine jumped slightly at the sudden burst of sound from the quiet woman. She couldn't help but also notice just how beautiful she was.

Jessica's hair, unlike Christine's, was wonderfully straight. It was pulled into a delicate bun at the base of her head. Her eyebrows were only slightly darker then the hair on her head and her eyes were not so much blue as much as they were green. She had a full mouth, colored pink, and her skin was fair.

Jessica recovered from her laughter and stared at Christine with humor, "truly Christine, you are confused as to my meaning?" The brunette nodded softly, Jessica looked around, "come, let us talk where there is more privacy. Your room perhaps."

Christine led her up to the second floor with wonder. This woman had such a strange air about her. At first she was dismissive, and now she wished to talk as if they were old friends. What a strange woman indeed!

Once in Christine's room Jessica shut the door and smiled as the brunette offered her a seat on the bed. She took it graciously and looked at Christine with wonder, "Philippe is to blame for my flushed countenance because he and I were making love."

_Good God! _Christine choked for an answer and could only nod furiously. She looked to the window nervously and then back to the blonde woman, _did she just tell me that she made love previous to entering the room? What in the world-_

"Have you ever made love Christine, or do you remain a virgin?" Jessica asked, she noticed Christine's blush, "that is answer enough… so you do not know the sensation of having a man's hands on you?"

Christine shook her head quickly, "no, I have never touched a man, or kissed a man." _Why am I not stopping this conversation? _Christine wondered, _because you want to know more, _another voice replied.

"Goodness," Jessica leaned back onto the bed and crossed her legs, "and you've never seen a man naked before?"

"No," she squeaked.

Jessica smiled, "it is alright Christine, I want to be friends with you if we are to be in the same family. I cannot speak to anyone about the matters of women. And I will most certainly not discuss these matters with Madame de Chagny."

"What matters?" Christine moved curiously forward.

"The matters of men and women. I admit that at first I felt apprehensive about you, you seemed mousy, and strangely alluring. But after seeing your fit I knew you and I had to speak on more friendly terms. And now I find that you are completely lost in things I assumed you had already known of."

"Like what?" Christine sat shyly beside Jessica.

"Sex, Christine," she raised brow, "do you know how it works?"

"Well I have heard things," she mumbled, I know the mechanics."

"Well the mechanics are a good place to begin. But there is more to it and simply that, there is pleasure and love and beauty, I am surprised that Madame de Chagny has not pulled you aside and spoken to you of these things. She forced me to listen to her drone on and on about how to make love pleasurable for a man. Of course she did not tell me how to make love and derive pleasure for myself. But I assume she would not know pleasure, her husband is too busy sticking his cock in other women."

"His what?" Christine stared with confusion, "what did you say?"

"Cock," Jessica grinned at her teasingly, "it is a male's manhood Christine. As a virgin you must learn to expect pain, and you will get no pleasure from your first time making love, but with time it will change and you will learn."

Christine shifted, "what should I expect?"

"It all depends on who is making love to you. I suppose if the man does not care for your needs you should expect nothing but a building pleasure and then no end. He will spill his seed and be done with it, you will lay there empty handed," Christine almost flinched at her blunt language, but she appreciated the honesty, "but if the man loves you can you can expect to come out of it looking as I did a few moments ago," she smiled at Christine whose eyes widened with understanding, and then widened more with shock, "Philippe is difficult to satiate. I imagine Raoul will be too."

"Raoul? I would never make love to Raoul-

"Unless he tries to force himself upon you," Jessica corrected immediately, "I do not imagine he will. But on his wedding night he will expect something."

Christine stood in a hurry, "no, I will not… no!"

"Christine do not panic-

"I would never lay with him!"

"Lower your voice," Jessica hissed and came to a stand, grabbing her by the shoulders and sitting her down, "I will not continue to inform you if you are going to panic at the thought." When Christine stared at her obediently she continued, "I understand your fear. I was the same way, but there is one thing I've learned about men and that is that they can be pleased without taking you."

"What can I do?" Christine pleaded, "I will not lay with that man."

Jessica stared at her with worry. She could see the fear plain in Christine's eyes. And it reminded her so much of herself that she sat beside her and took her hand in her own, "slowly you must tempt a man. They will have your attention if you grab them."

"Grab them?" Christine's eyes became horrified, "you mean… on his…"

"Yes," she nodded, "you must touch him and then free him of his confines. Once you do that gently, Christine, very gently begin to stroke him. You must be gentle and not rough, that is a very sensitive area on a man. None would like it if you did it too hard."

Christine nodded quietly.

"Now, his breathing might pick up, what you do is stroke him faster, until eventually he spills his seed. And then he will be spent for the night. It is really that simple."

"Alright." _It certainly seems simple enough._

"But when it comes time for you to actually have sex you must be prepared. There will be pain as you have never taken a man, and there will be no pleasure, and if there is any it will be very little," Jessica roamed her eyes over Christine's slight frame, "I imagine that you will be very sore."

"Will it ever get better?" She whispered hoarsely, she could see her entire life suddenly splayed out before her. Raoul de Chagny beside her in a bed, touching her… she shivered.

"Yes, but you must also make certain he knows what it is that you like. You are still a virgin and it is natural that you will not know what it is that you like, but you must learn to gather pleasure for yourself. Have you ever… experimented with yourself?"

Christine shook her head, "no."

"Good Lord," Jessica sighed heavily, "well Christine, my only piece of advice to you when it comes to having sex is to take your time. And take care of yourself before the matter is done."

"What do you mean?" Christine croaked unsurely.

Jessica bit her lip and stood from the bed. She approached the dresser and fumbled around for something, when she turned she had a pair of scissors in her hand. Christine blushed, suddenly understanding her meaning, "be careful when you do it. I do not mean to sound crass, but I think that it will be more pleasurable for you if there is less between you and him."

Christine nodded.

"You might also find that there will be times when you feel… a building sensation," Jessica approached Christine cautiously, the young girl looked like she was ready to combust, "it is perfectly normal. Chase that – you might not get it again."

Christine nodded and bit her lip, "may I ask you something?"

"Of course," Jessica sat beside Christine and stared at her seriously.

"What if…" she blushed, "never mind."

"Tell me," Jessica ordered.

"What if… Raoul," she almost hissed the name out, "wishes to do something out of the ordinary. Are there things that I should know?"

Jessica cocked her head to the right, "there are certain things that men like that a woman will not find particularly enjoyable. There are men that want women to pleasure them with the mouth."

"With my mouth?" Christine spluttered, "that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!"

"Pzzt!" Jessica scolded her for raising her voice, "yes with the mouth," she sighed and rubbed her forehead as Christine stared at her with outrage, "they enjoy the feeling… it's like a suction. Again, if Raoul should ever ask this of you do not use your teeth. It is a very sensitive area Christine."

She nodded, "thank you for telling me of all of these things."

"I felt the urge to speak with you. I understand that our father in law is getting very impatient for grandchildren, he has been speaking to Raoul of perhaps… instigating sex with you before the marriage."

Christine shut her eyes and breathed hard, "I will not bear children."

"Then you will be forced to," Jessica explained, "they will ensure that Raoul impregnates you Christine, one night he will come here and try to persuade you."

"I would like to see him try," she spit.

Jessica sighed, "Philippe is also getting impatient."

"Do you want to bear his children?"

"Of course. Our marriage is one filled with love. But I am afraid. Child birth is painful, and often women die of complications. He is impatient, but his fear is just as great as mine if not worse."

"I do not understand," Christine frowned, "if you _do_ have… sex, then how is it that you are not with child?"

She sighed, "we are very, very careful. That is how."

"I still do not understand," Christine stared.

"There are some methods… sometimes we do not actually have intercourse, we simply use our hands to give pleasure to one another. Or I ensure that he remove himself from inside me before he spills his seed."

Christine bit her lip nervously and nodded, "I understand."

"Jessica!" Philippe's voice rang from outside the room.

"I am with Christine darling, no need to shout!" She called back and grinned as Philippe knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Christine called and then he burst into the room energetically. Christine smiled at him as he shot her a grin.

"I have been looking for you everywhere," Philippe gently told his wife as she came forward and took his hands in hers, "I do not like it when I am unaware of where you are."

"Forgive me my love, I was simply talking to Christine," Jessica looked to Christine, "I must take my leave. It was a pleasure talking of music with you Christine, I will come visit you tomorrow."

"Certainly," Christine nodded and curtsied to them both. They left with grins on their faces.

She gave a hard sigh and moved towards the window_… what a conversation_.

_I could never do any of those things with Raoul, _she thought as she gazed out at the expanse of the land that Raoul's family owned, _I would never give him a child._

Most of her thoughts revolved around what she had said about making love. About the fact that it would hurt at first, and the fact that there would be pleasure eventually but that she must chase it, or else she would never get it again.

_I wonder if Erik has ever been intimate with a woman, does he even know how to? Certainly he must, he knows everything._

Then she paused and cocked her head as she remembered something, _Raoul's father is sleeping with other women? Good gracious! _

She covered her mouth with shock and then moved away from the window. She approached the dresser and stared at herself with interest, _who could ever want me? _She wondered as she stared at her face.

Christine felt that if she had any attractive feature it was her eyes. They were almond shaped, wide and blue. Crystal clear. But then the rest, in her opinion, was a disaster. Her lips were awkwardly full, and her face did not have the striking qualities that Jessica possessed. Her hair was outrageously full and curly, and her nose was not defined enough. She was a plain.

Christine stared down and noticed the scissors…

She bit her lip and then moved towards the door. She would have a bath drawn, and then she would follow Jessica's suggestions.

It was a long time before night fell. Christine did not see Jessica for the rest of the day. Thoughts of Erik invaded her senses, she felt as if though he were following her, as if his spirit was with her even when she knew very well that it was not.

That night Christine fell into bed with fearful thoughts. She was Raoul's father was getting impatient and wanted grandchildren. She locked her bedroom door so that Raoul would not be able to enter the room, _but certainly he has a key, _she thought with fear and buried herself into the bed sheets. She fell into a fitful rest.

Christine began to dream of Raoul. She dreamed of him waiting for her at the altar. And she would walk to him, and yet she yelled hateful words at him. And in the audience she saw Nadir, smiling at her, encouraging her. She saw Jessica whispering words to her, telling her how to please him for that night. And when she reached the alter the priest stared down at her with burning eyes. And only when she focused did she realized that they were colored amber.

Her eyes snapped open. The darkness around her was _astounding_. The moon did not reveal itself to her this night, and she could only lie there very still.

_What a strange dream, _she thought quietly, _why would Nadir be in the audience? Why does my mind play tricks on me so cruelly? _

Christine stiffened as she heard the sound of Raoul's door opening and closing from outside her door… her eyes widened when she heard him yawning near her door.

She stiffened and sat up as he began to jiggle the doorknob. A sob began boiling in her stomach as she clenched her hands into the sheets.

Then it clicked open. A tremble rocked through her entire body... _he is here_. The door clicked again as he closed it.

"Raoul?" She croaked. _God help me…_

**…**

Impatiently Erik stroked the fur of the animal in his lap. It purred and nipped at his fingers gently as he waited for the appropriate time to make his way towards the vicomte's home.

_What is Christine doing? _He wondered quietly, _perhaps she is irritating the de Chagny's. _He smirked at the thought.

When the night came Erik threw on his dark cloak and silently made his way out of his home. Nadir had described the layout of the home to him with perfect details, he could almost envision the house perfectly.

He glided through the night at a furious pace. No one would have caught sight of him even if they squinted, he kept the white mask turned away from the light, and he ensured that the hat on his head blocked out all light from his face. Thus, he became a part of the night itself.

It was not until he approached a magnificently large home that he began coming to a stop. The closer he came the harder his hands clenched.

Somewhere in there lay his blue eyed muse, waiting for him.

Erik hurried approached the Iron Gate and easily analyzed the home. It had three floors, and a stone walk way led up to the front door. He counted eleven windows on each story and noticed that there were two tower like structures at the front corners of the home.

He observed the house for a few moments, looking for any signs of movement. When he was certain that he would find none he began climbing the iron fencing around the land. His fingers grabbed on tightly to the iron posts and his movements were silent and catlike as he reached the top and then jumped down, landing quietly and without effort.

Slowly he began approaching the home.

Erik pulled out two needle like objects and crouched as he stopped before the door.

"Interesting choice," he muttered as he observed the lock, "Joseph Brahmah. We will see if it can keep me out."

It took him less than five minutes to unlock the door. And when it clicked open he almost grinned.

Erik slid inside the home and quietly locked the door. Nadir had indeed done a good job of explaining the layout to him. It was just as described. Everything inside was silent. And Christine was right, it smelled of flowers, _too many flowers_. Erik scowled in distaste. Everything was lavish, and the floors were too white, even in the darkness.

Wasting no more time he glided up the stairs and to the second floor. He turned a corner and observed the long hallway.

She had told him that her door was the one colored ivory. He spotted it in the center of the hall and moved down that way with ease. He listened for movement as he moved and when he came to a stop outside her door he pressed his ear to it, trying to listen.

Then Erik stiffened.

He could hear someone opening a door down the hall. He turned his head and squinted in the darkness.

Raoul de Chagny was making his way out, rubbing his eyes in a tired fashion and yawning quietly as he shuffled down the hall _towards_ him. The masked man stiffened as Raoul cast his eyes up at him.

_This is where you die boy, _Erik thought as Raoul squinted at him in the dark.

He blinked furiously and then sighed, rubbing his shoulders and moving forward some more. He passed by Erik's stiffened body without comment or acknowledgement, seeing and unseeing. He released another yawn and behind making his way down the stairs.

Erik blinked with shock and looked down at his clothing.

_Of course! _He realized that Raoul could not have seen him in the darkness.

_How oblivious! Damn him… now knocking is not an option. If he hears it would be a mess._

Erik quickly kneeled and began the task of unlocking Christine's door. Even as Raoul's footsteps faded he would not risk the man making his way back up to the room and then getting caught. No, that would not do.

Erik struggled with it for a few moments. He felt his jaw clenching in frustration. Nothing would keep him from her, and knowing that she was just beyond the door made him more anxious.

Erik struggled with it for a few more moments before he heard a sharp click. He shut his eyes hoping that no one else had heard it and then slid like ink in water through the dark and into the bedroom. Quickly he turned and shut the door quietly, but still the click sounded.

Silence fell for a few moments, before another sound came.

"Raoul?" Christine breathed.

* * *

**:o **

**Oh crap.**

**No Christine, not Raoul. Not Raoul.**

**SO! I hope that you all enjoyed that chapter. I wanted to finally bring Christine naivety about sex to the forefront now that she is in a world that is basically revolving around her giving up a lot of things about herself and the biggest thing is that she must give Raoul children. I wanted Jessica to be the type of woman that is blunt and brutally honest. So she does not sugar coat things for Christine about what to expect from sex (at least in this society) . They live in a world where a woman gives, she does not take. And so that is what she is telling Christine basically. Especially about the kids. **

**So! I hope you all enjoyed that chapter. Please tell me what you think! I spent lots of time on this chapter, trying to make Christine both curious looking, and also apprehensive. So :) I hope that came across.**

**Review darlings! I love hearing from you all! **


	37. Choices of Her Own

**Chapter XXXVI**

"Raoul?" Christine breathed out.

"No, Christine," another voice responded, "but if you wish I will gladly fetch him from wherever—

"Erik?!" Her eyes widened and she darted up from the bed, blinding reaching for him.

Before she could tumble to the ground in her excitement and confusion she found his fingers locked around her upper arms. The contact jolted her fully; it was like small bolts of fire through her pores. He was here! _Dear God it is Erik, he came to me, he really came!_

"Were you expecting him?" His voice was hard, but his grip was harder, she shivered as his scent wafted over her. It was so foreign in this setting where everything smelled of riches and flowers, and never so welcomed, "shall I call out to the vicomte?"

_What is he saying? Does he think that Raoul is whom I was expecting? Well I certainly was expecting him, _Christine thought, _but Erik's tone is too accusatory, he thinks… oh. _

"Erik, it is not what you might think," she whispered and looked up, straining to see him in the darkness, "I was frightened that he might try and come in that is all. But it is _you_, you are here!" She could hardly keep the elation out of her voice and found herself balancing on the balls of her feet, searching his face out.

"_Yes_," his words slithered, "I am here." Her flesh was stinging his palms. Very slowly he uncoiled his grip and stared her down even though she could not see him at all; her eyes were rabidly looking for his. _It seems they have adapted to the light, _he thought morosely as his hands dropped to his sides.

"I must see you, oh God Erik," she breathed and reached out and gripped his cloak tightly, her eyes widened up at him, he stiffened at the press of her knuckles to his chest.

"Yes," he recognized with disdain and a slightly annoyed tone, "they have been adjusting to the light rather well. It seems that the darkness no longer holds your eyes as it may have at one point."

Without another word he turned and stalked towards where he could see a lantern.

Christine watched as a light softly engulfed them both. Forcing herself to blink her eyes into clarity she couldn't help but feel a wash of calm envelop her. She felt only bliss; she had him here with her now.

When Erik turned to stare at Christine he felt his breath catch in his chest.

_Damn it! _He cursed as he struggled to look away.

Her long curly hair did nothing to hide the form of her breasts beneath the nightgown, even as the tresses fell over the mounds. And he could see almost right through the thin material of the nightgown; at least, he could make out the silhouette of her body beneath the material. Aggravation colored his expression.

"Why do you stare at me that way?" Christine grew confused and afraid. She had hoped to see a different look on him when the light embraced them. But instead it was revealing an annoyance on his face that she had never seen before. He stared as if though she had knowingly done something and was pretending to be innocent in the matter.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, his tone was bitter. His eyes scanned her once more and he looked away to the window, his knuckles were white as they clenched on the handle of the lantern, "you are almost bare Christine."

Now she blushed and modestly reached for the bed sheet. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, he needed to remain calm. But his curiosity was peaking, _is her body as slight as it seems? Certainly my hands would easily manipulate her small form… beneath me-_

"Erik? Please, do not be angry with me?" She asked. When he turned his face towards her she felt relief, his eyes looked calm, and his impassive expression had returned, "I do not want to fight."

"Neither do I," he responded and came forward with easily measured steps. Her breathing picked up as he drew near. He was removing his hat, and settled it on the bed, when he looked up at her she felt a burst of energy rush through her system.

"Erik, there is so much to tell you," she began and flexed her fingers; she longed to touch him but did not want him to move away from her if the bed sheet fell from around her. She was clutching it like if it were a cloak, "Nadir came. I gave him the note," she stepped forward and breathed lightly, "thank you for coming."

"Did you think I would leave you here?"

"No, of course not," she shook her head, "but I could not have expected that you would arrive so soon. It would have made perfect sense for you to wait a while longer."

"Why is it that you were expecting Raoul de Chagny?" His eyes narrowed, "has he made any attempt to join you in this bedroom?" _This horridly lavish bedroom. _

"No," her eyes hardened, "he has remained respectful of me Erik, I swear. However," she pressed her lips firmly together, "his brother's wife spoke with me today of very…" his eyes narrowed, "intimate matters."

Now he bristled, his jaw clenched, "what do you mean?" But he knew what she meant. The woman had, he suspected, talked to her of things he had never had the gall to do, mainly because with every word he spoke images naturally accompanied them.

"Take a seat Erik," she urged him gently and sat down. Very stiffly he took a seat beside her, still not touching her, "she was explaining to me that Raoul and Philippe's father is getting impatient for grandchildren. She has not had children out of fear of dying in childbirth, and Philippe agrees. But she suggested that Raoul might be coerced into - Erik?"

His eyes sliced over to her, "and what do you say to that Christine? Do you like the prospect of being mother to damnable children?"

"Erik," she felt insulted and his name left her in a single breath, "do not speak of children that way."

"Children are horrifying," he ran his eyes over her frame once, "and they will ruin everything you have worked for, they will crush you under the weight of motherhood, and you might not survive it." _And then I will die with you. _"And have you thought about them when they are newly born? Their disgusting habits, their gross attachment. Their weakness and their horrifying wails. You will hardly sleep, and by the end of it you will end up looking like Piangi!"

Christine clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her giggles. When he looked to her it was with displeasure.

"What is so humorous?"

"You," she laughed, "Erik I am not with child. Let's not speak as if though that is going to happen. I do not want children."

"Good," he returned seriously and then looked to her hands. The ring was not there, it made him shift with discomfort, "what else happened Christine?"

She explained to him that she had argued about the etiquette, and made sure to leave out the part where Raoul's father slapped her to the ground. Erik seemed to believe that they all agreed to disagree and did not comment much on it except to say, "These people do not belong with us."

They sat there after that for a long moment, and Christine felt her fingers twitching, "Erik, what are we going to do? He wishes to marry as soon as possible. The summer is approaching."

"You will not marry that boy."

"And what if it does happen?" She whispered, looking at him sadly, "what if by some horrible twist of fate there is nothing we can do to stop it?"

"Even then I will find you wherever you may be."

"But you must respect the rules of marriage," she whispered staring at him with shock, "we must."

"I will not," he stated seriously, _you and I are one and I expect it to remain that way. A piece of paper and religion do not change that._

"But when I marry him.."

"You will never be his," Erik stated fiercely, she jumped slightly at the severity of his tone, "is that something your new life tutor has taught you?" Christine shook her head, "what else did this woman tell you?" He changed the subject quickly.

"She told me of the way that it works… to make love," she bit her lip with a peek at Erik, "Erik… may I ask you something?"

"Of course," the tension spread through his limbs.

"Have you... ever…" he stared at her seriously as her face took rosiness to its tone.

"Yes Christine," he stated seriously, watching her face carefully, "I have taken women in the streets of Persia under the cover of darkness," when her eyes widened his narrowed, "why? Is it a mystery why any woman would ever consider-

"No, no," she shook her head furiously, "it is just that I never… I did not think that you had."

"And what did Miss de Chagny tell you," Erik almost sneered, "was she giving you advice on ways to please the vicomte?"

"Yes," Christine nodded honestly, "she did. She told me things I've never known before… however she did omit something I am horribly curious about."

_I cannot believe we are truly having this conversation, _Erik thought with annoyance, _I feel as though she has been reduced to a child yet again. _

"She did not tell me about how to kiss properly," Christine thought about that for a moment not looking at Erik, if she had she would catch sight of a very shocked disposition, "I suppose I understand it. But she gave me advice on how to make things pleasurable for myself and yet-

"Christine," his breathe hissed out of him, "I do not take delight in this conversation. If you think for a moment that I am going to sit here and inform you on how to kiss Raoul –

"What? No, Erik that is not what I want I am simply explaining the situation to you, may I continue, or will you interrupt me with your anger?"

"You may continue," he shifted uneasily.

"She was telling me that it will hurt the first time I ever… make love to a man."

"It will," he agreed and stared towards the door, again, the thought of Christine in that position irritated him to no end.

"Did it hurt you?" She asked with a soft gaze, the thought of Erik in pain could break her to tears, "the first time?"

Erik did not know what came over him. But suddenly he had to repressed bursting into a fit of chuckles. He pressed his lips firmly together.

"Are you… are you laughing? At me?" Christine gaped, she could see that he was struggling to repress the laughter and it made her smile despite herself, "monsieur Erik, that is not very nice of you to laugh at my ignorance."

"Forgive me," he smirked slightly and then replaced it with an unexpressive face, "no Christine, it did not hurt me. It never hurts the male."

"That is unfair," she pouted slightly, he stared with interest, "why is it that the woman should have to change all the time?"

"It is a practical joke on your God's behalf," he retorted and then stood, he began pacing, "Christine there is only one way to get you out of this marriage, I have thought about it for some time now and see that it is that only way to get you out of this without my life being threatened." Christine nodded happily and stared at Erik, waiting, "I must leave the lair, find a new home, and then you are free to come with me."

She blinked, "leave our home?"

"I understand how that prospect might not be one you had hoped for, but it is the only choice we have."

"I understand," she nodded sadly, "but I had hope to… to at least return one last time."

"Perhaps one day. But we will make a new home. One away from society…"

"One where you will go outside and bask in the sun?" She suggested with a slight tint of humor in her voice, he smirked at her.

"I do not know that I will be basking, but yes. One where the eyes of society will not shine down upon me."

"And how fast might you acquire such a home? More importantly, how fast can you remove all of our belongings from underneath the opera house. It would be very difficult Erik, the tunnels are hardly long enough to move the organ and the piano. And the beds? And who will help you? I do not like the idea of you doing all of this on your own."

"Nadir will help," he replied, "and we will find some way to move the instruments through the streets. Perhaps under the pretense that they are being moved from the Opera House basements," he nodded to himself, staring distantly, "yes that will work."

Christine smiled, this plan was coming together perfectly, "and how long do you believe it will take?"

"I do not know. First I must see what it is that we will move and then I must decide on what we believe is the best course of action, who we will hire to move and who can be trusted. It will all be tedious, we must be patient."

Christine nodded obediently as Erik strode forward to her and cocked his head to the side. She remained seated before him.

"I will save you from this."

"I know," she whispered with a smile, "and then you and I will be together in peace once again."

"Yes," he nodded, "away from the misery of the world."

"I do not understand this," she hissed quietly, suddenly angry, "why do they treat women this way Erik?"

"The world has been this way for a very long time Christine," he had witnessed women perish under the heel of their husbands many times over, "it is unfair, I understand." His eyes narrowed, "but I will not let you be a part of this catastrophic system."

In time Erik noticed that Christine's eyes were drooping and she slumped to the mattress beneath her quietly, her words had become slurred.

"You are falling asleep," he sighed and rubbed his eyes, "I must return before the sun comes up. Goodnight Christine."

"No, no," she shook her head sadly, "stay with me for a few moments. Just until I fall asleep?" She pleaded tiredly with him. When he did not respond she quickly shuffled under the covers and adjusted the pillow carefully.

Erik noticed something and frowned.

_What is that? _

Erik reached for a glistening object and lifted it to his face, his eyes bulged, _why does she have a scalpel in her possession? She must have taken this from Nadir, and why is it under her pillow? _

"Erik…" she watched him warily and sat up as he examined it, locked in his thoughts.

_For protection? Perhaps she thinks that Raoul will attack her? But no, Christine would never harm anyone. Unless…_

"Erik?"

Erik released a strange sound from the back of his throat and then sliced his gaze to her. She shivered under the heat of his glare, "do you think I am an imbecile?" He hissed angrily, she quivered as he leaned over her frame, "were you planning to mutilate yourself?"

"It-it was only in case something happened," she defended herself, "I-I have the right to end my life if I am not happy-

"You foolish child!" He snapped angrily at her. She flinched, "you would kill yourself!"

"Yes," she repeated with the same defensive tone, "if my life is not pleasing to me then I have the right to do what I wish!"

"Lower your voice," he glared.

"I do not love him and if something happens to you then I do not see what meaning my so called 'life' would have—

"How dare you, you foolish creature," he glared violently, "trying to romanticize your current madness. Do you know how it angers me to think that you were even sleeping with this in your bed? What if you severed your neck in your sleep? Do you understand how sharp this is? You could have sliced your neck and bled until you were nothing but a sack of organs and bones! But you do not think of this—

"It's _my_ life!"

Erik hand came down on her mouth sharply. She flinched as he held it there, his masked face drew near to her, "lower your voice. In fact do not speak. I am leaving, and I am taking this with me"

Her eyes bulged and he removed his hand from her. She shot up from the bed and ran after him, when she reached him her hands fisted into his cape.

"Have you gone mad?" He whirled and glared down at her as she stared only at the scalpel, "have you –

"Give it back to me," she begged and reached for it. He snatched his hand away and gripped her arm firmly with the other.

"You are losing yourself in your panic," he realized with horror.

"Please Erik I must have it," her eyes looked crazed, wide and hysterical "if he comes in here and he-he claims me I will not live with myself. I cannot go through this again!"

The words stopped him. An arrow had just pierced his stomach. His throat had gone dry and for a long moment all he could do was stare.

"Please don't take it away I can hardly live with myself now, you alone are my reason for life and if something should happen to you I will not last even a day on this earth… and if he takes my body by force I will die of mental torment," she croaked, eyeballing his face for any indication as to what he might be feeling.

He found his voice and loosened his grip on her, "you would kill yourself if he touched you against your will?" _I knew this would come back to haunt her… I knew this would end up driving her crazy. We never dealt with the situation. _

"Yes…"

"And you would die for me?"

She nodded, and a small smile found its way to her face, "I would die for you…"

Erik's breath left him in one motion and he leaned closely to her, Christine's breath became slow and deep, as if she were in a trance, his eyes burned down at her. She was suddenly very aware of the proximity of his face to her own.

"Then you are the biggest fool on this earth," he stated harshly. He whirled around and moved away from her.

"Erik?" She croaked and reached out for him, but by then he had already opened the door and left.

She had never felt so singlehandedly betrayed in her life.

As Erik stalked through the darkness he could make out the sound of Christine crying and sobbing in her bedroom. Raoul de Chagny was making his way up the stairs at the sound just as Erik made his way quietly down.

Raoul was too blinded by the dark to see the ghost beside him, and Erik was too enraged to notice the vicomte. He waited by the door for a long moment, listening to her sobbing her eyes out. He could hear the people waking in the house as her crying grew more hysterical. He could hear her pleading and the vicomte trying to calm her.

_"Please, please give it back!"_

"Christine! Good God what has happened?" Raoul de Chagny sounded panicked, and he could hear other voices on the second floor.

_"Please, please oh, please I cannot live like this!"_

_What have I created in her? _Erik asked himself with a pained expression. He could remember the happy child that sang so beautifully. The bright blue eyes that had been so dependent on him and his protection

And now she plotted suicide if he was not with her.

He could see, in his mind's eye, every moment that he protected her and shielded her from everything. He could see the moment he snapped and screamed at her, treated her like the enemy. He can still see her running out.

And just like that Erik's visit was over. He escaped into the night, unsure of when he would return. Or if it was wise.

* * *

**:( Chwisteene.**

**As you can see, our darling girl is finally showing the harsher effects of the way she was raised. Christine never really dealt with what happened to her either, and I wanted to bring all these things to the forefront, and Erik inner conflict of either leaving her to be in the care of Raoul with the hope that she will no longer be damaged by him, and his urge to protect her.**

**So what are your thoughts? Logically we don't want anyone to kill themselves, but does ERIK have the right to take that choice away from her? What are your thoughts? Do you think Christine is going crazy, or simply thinking logically? Christine feels that if Erik is not with her then happiness is not possible for for her - so why bother living, and that if she is forced to have a child that she does not want she will find no happiness ever again, so again - why bother living? **

**Erik feels... well, that she shouldn't kill herself. Especially not over him. **

**Warning - next chapters are going to be a little different until our lucky number 40. :) I'm going to enjoy writing that chapter quite a bit. **

**Review? :) **


	38. Angels & Demons

Chapter XXXVIII

Ten days.

Exactly ten days since the last time Christine had seen him.

The limbs on her body were sore, and the joints ached to be flexed and utilized, but she could not please them. There was simply no energy, no life in her.

She didn't understand why having the scalpel would cause him to be so angry with her, well, she could understand it. But to be so angry that he would completely leave her this way was beyond her.

The first night that Erik had not returned to her she had simply accepted it. He was angry. She understood that, even if she did not agree with it. The second night she became confused. The third night she began to grow angry. And the fourth she was frightened. Ever since then she had been stuck in a perpetual state of hurt.

"Christine?" Raoul's voice came to her early on the morn of the tenth day. He was horribly worried about her, and while she hated it she couldn't help but remove the glare from her eyes whenever he came in to ensure that she was alright.

"Yes Raoul?" she whispered softly back, turning in the bed and looking to him from where he stood in the doorway.

"You've been in this bed for ten days now; wouldn't you like to venture outside? The sun would be good for you…" his hazel eyes softened as he drew nearer to her, "Christine you look awful," he stated truthfully.

And it was very true. Her eyes had grown red from lack of sleep. She was afraid that if Erik came in she would miss him, so she paced up and down to keep herself awake for him.

And every night Raoul would find her slumped on the bed, sleeping with her feet on the ground and her upper body on the mattress.

Her hair was horribly tangled and she had lost weight. She was refusing to eat, the most she'd have was fruits and bread. Her cheeks were starting to sink and her skin had lost its glow, it was reduced to an unearthly pallor.

But it was that stare that frightened him the most. It was that of a corpse.

"No I wish to remain in bed today…" she murmured and turned back over, looking towards the window with disinterest.

"Would you like to eat?" he asked unsurely, moving toward her and daring to stroke the soft skin of her arm. She hardly felt it.

"No, I find that I am not hungry."

"You have not eaten since yesterday morning Christine," his voice took on a newfound sense of urgency, "you cannot do this to yourself."

"I am not hungry." She repeated in the same tone, hardly putting up a fight.

Raoul sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.

Ever since he had found her in her state of terror, ten nights ago, she had been … _this_.

When he had come rushing into the room it was because she was shrieking madly. Her eyes were hysterically wide and her hands were clawed as if she were ready to gouge them out herself.

Jessica and Philippe had come running into the room, as they had stayed that night, and Jessica softly tried to reassure Christine that whatever she had seen was not real.

"Tell him! Tell him to return it!" Christine shouted wildly. Raoul had trembled at the sight of her, she looked like a woman possessed! "Tell him! I _demand_ it! I demand it!"

"Grab hold of her," Philippe commanded calmly. Instantly Raoul grabbed her and pressed her to the wall as Jessica continued to try and calm her. By now Christine had gone into a fit of muttering, no longer crying if not just speaking to herself and looking around the room for something.

"He took it away; he took my choice, _my_ choice! Mine! And yet he calls himself angel. Angel? Where is my free-will? No, no, I never had free-will. I only held the illusion, he created it. He and his music are an illusion. He cared only as long as I remained his castigated muse! Yes!" She cried out enthralled in her own mutterings. Deaf to the words Raoul was speaking, "he would let me live unhappily if it meant I would live! But what is a life without my _life_!"

"Christine!" Jessica had softly stroked the brunette's hair, trying to soothe her to the best of her ability as Philippe ordered servants to make tea, warm a bath, and build a fire, "darling, look at me, what are you talking about?"

Christine looked to Jessica then, Raoul found himself speechless.

_What had gotten into her?_

"He was here," she explainable softly, her eyes still wide, "he came to me and took it away!"

"Took what away? Who was here?"

"He took away my choice, my angel," her eyes went to Raoul then, "Raoul I am so tired."

"Come then," he gently towed her towards the bed; Jessica stared at Christine with confusion and went to her side, helping Raoul tuck her into the bed. She remained strangely compliant despite her previous exhilarated behavior. It frightened him.

"No, no, no," Christine protested and swatted their hands away; "I can do this. I am not a child!" She snapped, "Despite what you might think, and what he might think, I am not mad. I am seeing clearer than ever before! Now leave me, I can do this all by myself! Or will you sing me to sleep as well?"

"Christine," Jessica croaked and reached out to touch her but the glare that the petite female sent her way stilled her.

"I am not a child; I am capable of taking care of myself."

"Get her out of there," Philippe ordered. Christine glared at him as she pulled the sheets over her, Raoul blinked at the two of them, "she needs to bathe, she is nearly hysterical and you think she will sleep?"

"Get away from me!" Christine ordered angrily when Raoul reached for her.

Philippe marched over with annoyance and wrenched her from the bed harshly. She gasped as he pulled her towards the bathroom where a warm bath awaited her. He ordered her to bathe, and she did so without argument. When she finished Raoul watched her drink her tea and then she complained again of being tired. This time they let her go to bed without protests.

And here she had been for the entire ten days after.

"Christine, please join me in the garden. Let us talk, perhaps you can sing me a song?" He hoped that would work. She enjoyed music, and he never spoke to her about it. This was the chance, he prayed, to get to know her better.

"A song?" She perked up at that and sat up, her blue eyes moved to him, "yes… yes I must sing. There are many words in my head Raoul, many… let me dress, I will meet you."

He grinned and quickly left before she could change her mind.

It was a while before she came to him. Raoul sat on a stone bench in the de Chagny garden, soon the flowers were going to bloom. And while it was not as beautiful as it could have been he was certain the many statues of cherubs would have Christine's attention. Women enjoyed beautiful things, correct?

When she came to him he smiled, she was a sight.

Despite her obvious lack of sunlight, and the slightness of her frame since she had stopped eating, he found her to be just as stunning as ever. Her long curly hair was a mess, but the blue of the gown she wore brightened her complexion.

"You look wonderful," he admired her shyly as she approached; she stared at him and blinked.

"Thank you," Christine took a seat at his side and grimaced at the statues of angels all around them, "why are there so many angels?"

"Do you not like angels, Christine?" He wondered and stared at her stoic face, "I seem to recall you telling me that your father had sent you the Angel of Music, and you had been very pleased at that time in that notion."

"My Angel of Music is indeed an angel. But it seems he has grown angry with me Raoul, I can hardly sing anymore. I tried. And it seems he has not only taken himself away from me, but also my very voice."

"Well, come now I am certain that you can still sing. Sing something," he pleaded her, hoping to show her that he did intend to encourage her passion.

She nodded and stood.

Opening her mouth she began to sing an aria unknown to him. Raoul smiled with delight at her. She sounded beautiful, unearthly talented.

Christine heard herself, and hated it. She felt no energy to sing, she felt herself struggling with her voice. Raoul's pleased face did not encourage her. She did not yearn to please him, and she did not care for his approval.

And when she stopped he frowned with displeasure.

"It is horrible," she muttered and sat beside him again, "there is no passion."

"You must find that from within yourself Christine, that has nothing to do with your voice."

"It has everything to do with my voice Raoul."

Just like that, the topic of music was over.

"How have you been feeling?" He asked her and bit his lip nervously.

She thought about that for a moment, "I do not know. I find myself bored here," he flinched, "I sent for Nadir, and he would not write back to me. He has also abandoned me." It hurt her just as much as Erik's abandonment, "I do not understand anything anymore Raoul. Every time I believe something will change it goes south. Perhaps I should start praying for the worst."

"Do not say such things," he pleaded and took her hand, when she did not flinch he smiled, "I will make things okay again Christine."

"I am desperate for that," she murmured, "just an ounce of normalcy again Raoul…"

"I will get you a new tutor," he said softly, "and I will buy us a beautiful piano, you and I both will take lessons in how to play the instrument."

She smiled softly at that, "I do like the prospects of it."

"Come then," he stood, "let us begin the hunt for the instrument."

…

Five days later Christine found herself unable to remove Raoul from the piano. She watched with an amused gaze as he struggled with the notes. But his dedication was admirable.

Still Erik did not come to her. Nadir did not write either. She had sent him a total of ten notes.

He did not respond to a single one.

After growing bored she stood and retreated to her bedroom, it was both a solace, and a cage. There she began to write yet another note to Nadir.

_My darling Persian,_

_I do not know what I have done to deserve such disregard. I tried my best to ignore my growing sadness at your dismissive behavior towards my countless letters. But as you have gathered I am not quite yet a master at ignoring my emotions. _

_Please write to me, scorn me, curse me, but say something. I have had no contact with Erik and grow more worried by the day. You have also refused to contact me, and it only serves to strengthen my fears. Please, respond. I only want to know how you are. _

_With all my love, Christine._

She sealed the note, went down the stairs and dropped it on the silver rectangle. The servants would gather it from there and promptly send it out.

_Even Madame Giry ignores me. Why do they all hate me? I have done nothing wrong have I? Is this my punishment for all my past transgression? And Erik, _she couldn't help the burning tears as they sprung into her vision, _he has not come to see me. He has abandoned me. He scorns me with his absence. He knows very well what he does and he does not care! My God, I thought I knew him… I thought he loved me._

Her head was starting to hurt, it was not only Raoul's miserable practicing on the piano that did it. But it was Erik, it was Nadir, it was the impending marriage…

She moved to the stairs and sat there for a long time, listening to Raoul practice from another room and thinking.

The days were moving in slow seconds. She felt as though every hour was a day within itself. And every day was mockingly endless. Still she could not sleep. _Still_, he did not come to her. She even left her door open at night, hoping that he would somehow take this as a sign of invitation.

The exhaustion was starting to cripple her logic. Often she stared at her face in the mirror, for minutes and minutes, but saw nothing.

_What is he doing to me…? _

Every night that passed was another part of her that shattered.

_He must know this._

Christine ran a hand through her hair, when she looked to her fingers she noticed strands there. Her hair was falling out. And she could not bring herself to care. She knew how she looked. Raoul complimented her appearance, but Jessica and Philippe could not hide their dismay.

They had even started bringing plates up to her room, no longer caring to be proper, they just needed her to eat. She slumped backwards against the stairs, shutting her eyes.

_God forgive me. How long must I endure this punishment? _

When Raoul came from where he was playing he found Christine slumped on the stairs with her eyes closed and her lips parted.

Sighing he moved to her side and sat. Not daring to move her. If he moved her she would wake up, and then not sleep again.

Cautiously, quietly, he slid down to the stair beside her head and watched her. _Had she just fallen asleep here? What a strange woman. _

Christine blinked herself awake. A grunt of annoyance moved through Raoul, she would not sleep now, "how stupid of me," she stood quietly and blushed as he stared at her, "I am going to walk for a while. Goodbye Raoul." Sleepily, hurriedly, she stumbled throughout the house for the next few hours.

…

Twenty days. Twenty boring, painful, sleepless days for Christine.

_God, _she giggled in bed, dazed without rest, _this is truly a creative punishment. You will let me drive myself mad._

"Twenty days angel," Christine whispered almost drunkenly, "tomorrow night will make twenty one. And then we will be closer to a month. A month without your presence… perhaps you were truly just a phantom, haha!" She laughed, but very quickly it died down and she stared at the dark ceiling… how many hours of sleep had she gotten?

She could not remember.

She only recalled Raoul staring at her warily, Jessica saying things that entered one ear and escaped through the other, Philippe trying to make her laugh and failing.

Christine lay in bed trying to fight the sleep, and was painfully aware of the fact that hours had passed. She had yet again left the door open for him, hoping that he'd just walk in.

Christine did not know for how many minutes, or hours, she lay there, watching the door, but when she caught movement she sat up abruptly and squinted.

"Erik? Is that you?" She stood from the bed and reached for the lantern beside it. Clumsily she lit it and grabbed on tightly to the handle, when she lifted it she gasped, "Ange?"

"Christine," he murmured gently and ducked his gaze from the light. She felt an overwhelming sob trying to control her as she moved forward, "snuff the light out it burns me."

"No, no, Ange," she whispered and set it down, quickly she tripped her way over to him and trembled, not daring to touch him, "you-you left me. You did not come-

"I know," he interrupted quietly and raised his eyes, the amber glistened, "but I am here now."

"Why did you leave me?" She whispered and fell to her knees, "I tried… I tried-

"You did not try hard enough," he whispered gently, she raised her eyes to him and couldn't control the tears as he bent low, she could smell him now, and she noticed that there was dust on his cape, where had he been? "I have decided that I must be honest with you…"

"Honest with me? Why did you leave me?" She could not control her voice anymore, she could not control anything!

"Would you like to see my face?" He returned, ignoring her question.

She stared with confusion, "Ange where—

"Look at me Christine, you want me as I am," slowly he reached up and pried the mask off. And yet… and yet his entire face seemed to change before her.

He now had a strangely handsome face. And the amber of his eyes was blue… his black hair was blonde. She frowned as he stood and smiled at her with his perfect lips… "do I look beautiful to you now?"

"Erik? Erik? That's not you.. .you –you-

"I am not beautiful?" He scowled at her. She blinked with shock as he swept his hands over his face and again his face changed, "and now?"

He looked like her father. She recoiled with horror and began shrieking with terror. What was he doing! One of his tricks? What games was he playing with her!

"Erik stop it!"

"I only want to be beautiful for you Christine," he smiled softly with her father's face, coming towards her, slowly. But there was blood! And there was a wound in his head!

"Erik stop it!" She screamed as he leaned over her..

"And now?" Again, his hand brushed at his face, but now he was_ Raoul_, "and now?" Philippe, "and now?" Buquet, "and Now?"

She screamed in horror at Joseph's face.

"Christine!" Raoul shouted, shaking her out of her sleep viciously as she shrieked madly.

"No ,no! Please don't do this to me! Not again!" She opened her eyes wide at him, seeing and not seeing, "please I will sing! I will do whatever you wish-

"Christine," he gently brushed her cheeks with his fingers, "it was a nightmare, that is all my love, breathe…"

She breathed heavily and her eyes darted to the doorway. It was closed now, and Raoul was leaning over her, she swallowed heavily as he gently encouraged her to take deep calming breaths, "yes, just like that, breathe…"

"He was… in my dreams, he was you, and everyone else," she explained. He nodded, pretending to understand, "Raoul I am not dreaming now am I?"

"No, you are not," he assured her and pulled her up until she was sitting. He took a seat himself and put his hand to her forehead, "are you feeling better?"

"N-no," she shook her head with horror._ Jonathan_, she had _seen_ him, "he was everyone and then he… Oh God-

"Shh," Raoul boldly embraced her as she trembled against his side, "I am here now… sleep, I will not leave you.."

Christine nodded shakily and leaned into him, hoping to God that the dreams would stay away. He had not come for her, he was not here. He would never return.

It wasn't until she allowed herself to relax against Raoul side that she noticed something… she could feel his skin against her cheek.

Instantly she recoiled and pressed herself to the headboard, staring at him with panic.

"What… what in the world are you doing?" He gaped at her.

"You… you are not wearing a shirt," she tried to keep her eyes on his face, but it was nearly impossible, he was… shirtless! She had never seen a man in such a state, and try as she might she found her eyes roaming along the perfectly chiseled expanse of his chest, the skin was smooth and –

_No, no, no! _She scolded herself.

"You are bare." She continued.

"Is this a problem?" He stared with honest confusion. She looked as if though she had just seen an animal get butchered.

"Are you going to claim me?" She asked with a shudder, "now?"

"What on earth are you talking about Christine?!" He exploded, she flinched, "I would never do that to you if you did not want it!"

"Why are you here then, without a shirt?" She blinked.

"You…" He clenched his jaw with annoyance, "you were screaming in your sleep. I only wanted to ensure that you were alright."

"Truly?"

"Yes," Raoul assured her, "now, would you rather I left the room?"

"No!" She reached for his wrist and pulled him, "do not leave Raoul, please?"

He nodded and sat on the bed, watching her warily. She released his wrist and crawled under the sheets, keeping an eye on him and struggling to keep it on his eyes, she blushed and finally looked away when he caught her very shaky stare.

_Erik has abandoned me to Raoul... it's taken me twenty days and twenty sleepless nights to realize it._

She released a sharp sob and clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to block out most of the noise and not choke on her own sadness.

"Oh, Christine do not cry," Raoul nudged her gently and moved in beside her. She did not find it in her to care as he pressed her to him protectively and embraced her, "please don't cry," he begged her.

_Erik would command it of me, _she thought sadly, _he would grab my chin and demand that I stop crying. And I would, I would fight all my emotions and listen to him._

"I will make you happy Christine, I swear it…"

_You cannot make me happy… only Erik… _

Gently Raoul disengaged his arms and tilted her chin up; she peered up at him cautiously. He was staring at her full trembling lips.

_But there is no more Erik…_

"Goodnight Raoul," Christine whispered out hollowly. She turned over and shut her eyes tightly.

He stared at her for a long time, hurt… he made a move to stand up, she felt the weight shifting on the bed.

"Please stay," she begged quietly.

Happily Raoul lay back down to the mattress and cautiously wrapped an arm around her. She let him, stiffening only for a few seconds.

He kept his distance even as she slept, letting her clutch his hand as she cried her last tears for Erik. She fell asleep promptly after.

* * *

**Erik! Get your ass to her NOW! **

**Before I get reviews that condemn the story - stick with it. Don't worry we are not going towards Love Never Dies okay? Relaxxx my darlings, we're not going that way. **

**And whats going on with Nadir? Why are you ignoring her Persian!... what do you guys suspect? :o**

**If you have time I have a suggestion if you're looking for an AMAZING POTO story, go read THE ANGEL OF PERSIA BY FANTOMPHAN33**

**Seriously BEAUTIFUL so far, and I have no doubt it will remain that way. **

**Now.. review? :) you'll want to stick around for chapter 40. I think most of you have a pretty good idea of where this is headed.**


	39. Oceans of Blood & Wine

**Chapter XXXIX**

"Christine," Raoul knocked on the door gently, "may I enter?"

"Yes Raoul, you may," she answered back and turned from the sun to meet him at the door.

_Twenty five days, _she thought quietly as she made her way towards him as he entered, beaming at her like if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, _twenty five days without Erik and I am still breathing._

"You look stunning," Raoul breathed as she stood before him. Color had returned to her cheeks since she agreed to start taking better care of herself, and she even blushed when he complimented her now, every now and then she gave him hints of a smile. It was all very pleasing.

"Raoul I am dressed the same as every other day," she rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, he grinned wider at her, "thank you."

"Come, there is a visitor waiting for you down in the main room," Raoul informed her. He noticed the small contraction between her brows and gnawed his lip nervously, "I hope that this meeting will go better then the last."

"Who is it?" Christine asked with confusion as he took her arm gently and began walking her down the hall, "Raoul please answer me… it is best that I should know now as opposed to being taken by surprise."

"It is my mother," he stated quietly, not looking at her face for fear of what he might see there. Christine managed to keep her expression as impassive as if she had been wearing a mask and only nodded slightly, "I pray you will forgive me. I – I do not know what it is that she is doing here."

"There is nothing to forgive Raoul," she stated gently, "this is her home, she is your mother, and at some point she and I would meet face to face. I would rather it was now as opposed to it being the day of the wedding."

He nodded sharply and led her down the stairs, "are you nervous?"

_That is an understatement, _"no," she lied easily with a smile to calm his more obvious nerves. He nodded, "Raoul everything will be fine. I can sense you trembling on my arm, calm your nerves or your mother will truly think that there is something to worry about."

"If my mother crosses a line with you I will put her in her place," he muttered fiercely.

"Brave lion," Christine smiled back as they landed and began moving to the left. As they passed the platter of letters she noticed that the one she had set out earlier was gone, "my letters have been sent Raoul?"

"Yes," he nodded at her.

When Christine and Raoul entered the main room her eyes immediately landed on Madame de Chagny.

She was sitting on the ivory colored couch with her back to the large window. The sun was shining in her yellow hair, it looks wispy in the glow of it, and while she herself reserved a cold disposition her beauty was still as entrancing as always.

Monsieur de Chagny stood by the fireplace with an annoyed look in his eye, glaring at her as she stared at her nails with interest. Christine tried to not look at the man.

"Good afternoon," Christine greeted her kindly, trying to keep the coldness from her voice and faltering only slightly.

The regal woman turned from where she sat only slightly and analyzed Christine with a cold stare. Her lips pursed as she observed the future wife of her son. She noticed how Christine wore flat shoes instead of heeled ones, and how her chin was held up, almost proudly… and her messy curly hair, "goodness Christine do you know how to tame that wild mane of yours?"

"Mother," Raoul hissed angrily.

"No, Madame," Christine smiled and shrugged, narrowing her eyes the slightest bit at the woman, "but I assume that you yourself might teach me how, seeing as your hair is so thin and flat."

No one heard the insult.

"On your wedding day I hope that you do something about that mess, I will not have my son marrying a sheep-

"Mother-

"It is quite alright Raoul," Christine eased his annoyance, "there is no shame in being a sheep."

"Good afternoon," Monsieur de Chagny finally greeted her and his son; he kept an icy reserve towards the wild haired female.

"Good afternoon," Christine stated without looking at him, she kept her eye trained on the blonde woman who was coming to a stand.

"I have picked out your dress for the wedding," she stated and moved gracefully past her husband and to the orchid plant she had on a stand near Christine, she examined the plant carefully, "I find it is beautiful. I worry that it might not fit with your slight frame. One wonders how you will bear children with such small hips-

"Mother!" Raoul's tone was growing angrier with every word she spoke, "do not speak to my wife that way."

_Wife… _Christine shuddered and pulled her arm out of his as discreetly as possible, _I, Christine will be married. I will have a husband!_

"She is _not_ your wife yet," Monseiur de Chagny commented and turned his body fully at them, there was a glint in his eye.

"You picked out my dress?" Christine turned to the cold creature at her side. She did not know why but it annoyed her that this woman had taken it upon herself to do such a thing. _I was practically forced into this marriage and now I cannot even choose my wedding gown? _

"You would hardly know how to pick a dress Christine, I am experienced in these things,," her answer was dismissive and she turned from Christine without a second glance, "Jessica looked absolutely beautiful with the dress I picked out for her—

"I had hoped to pick my dress out myself," Christine told her firmly.

There was a pregnant pause in the room and Madame de Chagny stilled with her back to Christine and Raoul.

"Excuse me?" Madame de Chagny turned very slowly and stared at her son and his fiancée.

Christine could hear Raoul's breathing picking up ever so slightly at her side. _ Is that fear I read from him? _She wondered very quietly, _yes it is… poor Raoul, raised under the hell of his mother and father. He rebels without cause, but at the end of the day he is a beautiful, gentle, and loving… coward._

"I shall repeat myself then," Christine began, "I had hoped to pick my wedding dress out on my own, or perhaps in the company of Jessica. It seems that I have no way out of this marriage and I have no choice in matters anymore. At the very least you could do me the curtsy of including me in what it is that I will put on my body."

"Dear God," Raoul mumbled as sweat burst upon his brow, he pulled out a small cloth and dabbed at his head nervously. It seemed the fire had ignited within Christine at the thought of his mother doing such a thing.

"I thought I was helping," his mother answered decisively, "after all you lay in bed moping and whining. You are to be a vicomtesse and yet you complain like a wretched and spoiled girl."

Christine took two calming breaths, "you forget Madame that I wished to remain in the opera house. You came in search for me, telling me that I should marry your son—

"What?" Raoul's stared at Christine with confusion, "what do you mean?"

"Your mother came in search of me, pleading me to put you out of your most unhappy state," Christine stared at Madame de Chagny poignantly. She did not care if the woman hit her, or if her husband struck her again. It really did not matter, "it is of no consequence. I told her no, and yet here I am."

"Good afternoon!" Jessica's happy voice came from behind them just as Madame de Chagny's face turned tomato red. Christine turned as Philippe came with Jessica on his arm. She grinned at Christine, happy to see her out of the bedroom and looking as alive as the first day she had met her.

"Good afternoon to you both," Christine curtsied and Raoul nodded at his brother and kissed his wife's hand politely. Philippe took Chistines hand in did the same. She shivered at the press of lips to her skin but did not express any disgust.

"Take a seat," Monseiur de Chagny ordered them all, waving to the couch.

"If you do not like the dress then you are free to return it," Madame de Chagny took a seat. Jessica looked at her with confusion and then to Christine who balled her hands into fists.

"I will not look at it at all," she informed her, Raoul swore he was going to faint.

Madame de Chagny did not address this, it was as if Christine hadn't spoken at all, "now, tell me Raoul, when shall little Christine grant me a grandchild."

At this Monsieur de Chagny perked up, he went to his wife's side and sat down. It seemed that he was trying to be careful to not touch her as she shuffled a bit to the left and away from him. Christine followed Raoul to the couch opposite of them and mirrored the couple in front of them. Jessica and Philippe took a seat on the same couch, Philippe to the left of his brother, and Jessica to Christine's right.

"Christine and I are not planning for children anytime soon," his tone was shaky, "we must get to know one another first… on better terms."

"Oh, come now!" Monseiur de Chagny grimaced, "I will die without seeing grandchildren? Jessica and Philippe are still trying and you who are fully capable will not out of modesty?"

Jessica lowered her head and blushed at the way the man spoke of her private matters. Christine knew, however, that they were not trying at all, _perhaps they are lying to the man so that he might not be so overbearing on the subject? Jessica made it clear to me that they are not trying to have children whatsoever. He seems to be under the impression that they are… _

"Christine and I will have children when the time is right."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was not having children.

"And what do you think of that Christine?" Madame de Chagny adressed her directly, "do you want to wait?"

Wishing to not embarrass Raoul she nodded, "when the time is right we will have children. Until then that subject is not to be breached. We must be married first, let us get through that before planning for offspring."

_What would Erik say if I were with child? _She wondered as Madame de Chagny engaged Jessica into conversation and Raoul spoke with his father and Philippe, _I imagine that he would be angry, perhaps he would scold me. But does it matter? _

_Of course not, _a harsh voice scolded her inwardly, _he is gone. He abandoned me. He is nothing but a liar, just like the rest of these people… no, no not like the rest of these people. At the very least the de Chagny family is forthright about their hatred of me, with Philippe, Jessica, and Raoul being the exception. _

"Christine," Jessica interrupted her thoughts, "you seem as if though you are sad. Are you alright?"

Everyone looked to her, had her face betrayed her? "I am fine, I am thinking of my wedding day. I am strangely elated…" _I can lie too; I have many Maestros for that. _

"Christine, I wish for you to join me outside for a moment, I wish to show you something," Raoul smiled at her. Madame de Chagny stared at him coolly, and strangely, "come my dear."

Christine excused herself and followed Raoul out to the cool air. It was slowly getting warmer, and while the wind was still slightly biting she knew that very soon the flowers would begin to spring.

And then it would be the summer, and she would find herself wealthy behind imagination, and the wife of Raoul.

"What is it that you wished to show me?" She asked softly as he led her to a cherub, she frowned at it.

"Stand here," he moved back a bit and then very slowly took a deep breath. Slowly Raoul lowered himself until he was down on one knee… Christine's breath caught in her throat as he reached to his pocket and pulled out something. It was glistening at her.

"Oh God, Raoul…"

"Christine, I have lived without you for much too long," the words escaped him hoarsely.

When she nervously removed her eyes from him to look elsewhere she saw Philippe, Jessica, his mother and father standing by a window with them in direct view. She even caught sight of a few servants in the windows of the upper floor gazing at them with curiosity.

"Christine," she looked back to him as he continued, "I want nothing more than to make you happy," his eyes looked nervous as he spoke, "you are exactly what I want in a woman. And I know that your life has been less than fair. I know that I have not been fair to you. But allow me this chance to make it up to you," he pleaded and held the ring up higher towards her, _is that a diamond? _"I know that I can make you happy… and.. I-I love you," he exhaled slowly, "please accept this ring."

_Why does it feel as if this is the first time he has brought the subject of marriage up? _She stepped nearer to him and gave him her hand, time seemed to slow, _perhaps it is that the ring is a signal… this is really happening. But if I told him no, it wouldn't matter… he would still force me into this marriage under the threat of harming Erik._

Raoul slipped the ring onto her finger with tears in his eyes. He smiled and beamed at the sight of it there, now every man would know that she was his. He had won.

"Thank you," he breathed as he stood and embraced her.

Christine's hand had gone very cold. It felt like dead weight, and she swore that the ring was never going to come off. It felt almost unbearably tight on her, as he hugged her and the sounds of Jessica squealing sounded from inside the house, Christine looked at her hand from behind him.

It had a golden colored band and a single diamond in the center.

"It is only the engagement ring," he smiled softly as he pulled away and took her hand in his, "it is simple, but I just.. I needed to have it on you. I could hardly stand the sight of your hand without a token of my –

"Thank you, it's beautiful," she could hardly stand to hear him say the word love again.

Raoul beamed at her against and nodded, then began pulling her towards the house where she was showered with lavish compliments about the ring from everyone.

**…**

That evening was one of celebration. Madame de Chagny had the servants bring them wine, and Christine had little sips, hardly able to stand the taste. Raoul grinned as his brother humorously told stories of when they were younger, Jessica laughed along with them and Christine smiled through each tale carefully.

It was as the night was truly drawing to a close that Christine was forced to stand and dizzily excuse herself, Jessica smirked.

"I fear Christine has had a little too much wine," Jessica giggled.

"It seems you have as well," Philippe smiled and stood, "come, I will carry you to bed."

"I do not need to be carried," she protested gently as he pulled her to her feet.

"Do you need help getting to the bedroom?" Raoul asked Christine. He knew that she was not one to drink. He suspected that this was her first time drinking alcohol, and it most certainly had an affect on her. She was blinking very slowly, trying her best to clear her vision, it was humorous.

"I am fine," she slurred slightly. Madame and Monsieur de Chagny smirked despite themselves, "I am simply a bit too warm."

"That is the wine. Have you never had alcohol before?" He asked her gently. Jessica was heard giggling from somewhere in the house.

"No, but I am quite fine. Rest assured I will be on my bed and you shall find me there tomorrow sleeping this off. Goodnight," she waved at them all with a fake smile. Raoul nodded and watched her go with a bit of sadness.

Christine trudged up the steps of the home with a sorrowful stare at the lavish rug beneath her feet.

This ring was strangulating her finger. She could hardly stand the sight of it; it was only a mocking reminder of what was to come!

"How unfair," she mumbled to herself and came nearer to her bedroom door, down the hallway she caught sight of Jessica laughing madly in Philippe's arms as he swatted her hand away from his hair before gently coaxing her into the bedroom.

Christine stumbled to her bedroom door and pushed it open and closed it behind her. Everything was spinning and she felt this urge to laugh but could not tell where it was coming from.

Christine lit the lantern quietly and then went to the mirror. Once there she stripped herself of her clothing and changed into a nightgown. Her head was not quite spinning but the room was most certainly tilting on its side.

"Dear God, what is it that men find so wonderful about this," she clutched at her forehead, "it feels as if though… Oh God and I am talking to myself," she flopped facedown to the bed, "crazy Christine… mad, mad, mad."

_And this damnable ring, _she flexed her fingers; _it feels as if though it is a tourniquet!_ She sighed heavily and tried to get comfortable, _will Raoul come to my bed again tonight? _She hoped not… but logically she knew that the possibility was there.

After some time she fell asleep. Her dreams were inconsistent and of different things. It seemed that her mind was consciously blocking Erik out. There was no trace of him even in her unconscious imagination.

**…**

First it was a strange tapping.

Christine blinked herself awake at the sound and rubbed her eyes tiredly as she listened for the sound. Bit she found nothing except darkness all around her.

What time could it have been? Had she slept for hours or minutes? Or days?

Her confusion only grew when she realized that she could also hear very light scraping near the doorway. Christine frowned and stood from where she sat with annoyance. Was it Raoul? Why would he disturb her at this time of the night? Perhaps she was screaming? But she could remember no nightmare…

As she made to take a step she stopped and released a long, 'oh'. The room tilted left and she clutched the table drunkenly. Her legs buckled as she made small steps forward.

"Raoul, forgive me if I woke you," the noise stopped altogether as she moved to the door and gripped the doorknob. She gave it a quiet twist and opened it, she could hardly see him, she blinked her gaze clear as she turned her back and began stumbling awkwardly to the bed, "I will do my best to be quieter. But this alcohol…it is making it very hard to stop talking to myself."

She heard him closing the door behind her as she flopped onto the bed, staring at the dark ceiling.

"Will you spend the night here to ensure I do not get sick?" She giggled as she caught sight of him approaching her, she could not find it in her to care. But as she stopped in front of her and did not move she felt as if though something were horribly wrong.

This figure was too tall, and too broad of the shoulders to be Raoul.

_"Christine…" _

The voice was like fire through her ears, in one instant she was laying down and in the other she was making an attempt to launch herself across the bed but he had already caught her by the arm and pull her to him in one easy movement.

_It's him… I know it is him. _She knew the feel of his hands and his chest like the back of her hands. It was familiar, and she could not even fight, _how pathetic! _She thought with aggravation as she allowed him to press her into his chest.

His grasp on her wrists tightened and the amber flashed down at her, his eyes were like lanterns themselves, she realized, and the more she stared the more her eyes got used to the dark. A shiver ran up her spine and her fear was painted too clearly on her face, _so he has returned…_.

"My angel," the illusion whispered out hoarsely, "do not stare at me with such anger. I can hardly stand it."

Slowly it changed into confusion, fear, and then finally it settled into something she had not expected.

"_Ohh_… it's _you_," she bit her lip, "the Phantom of the Opera is there," she sang quietly, slurring her words and closing her eyes as she struggled to hold in her laughter. Her head was horribly heavy and she let it drop to his chest, breathing his scent in deeply and running her hands carefully along the fabric of his clothing, "inside my mind!"

"Shh!" He clapped his hand on her mouth and glared at her as she fell back to the mattress and he pressed on her mouth to mask her laughter with one knee on the matress, "do you wish us to be caught!" His whisper sent a thrill through her body as he hovered over her.

"_Phanoms caugnt be caought_!" She muffled around his mouth. He stared at her, completely appalled as she burst into more fits of laughter.

_I must keep it in mind to never give her alcohol, _Erik thought with annoyance as Christine laughed on and on under his hand. It was when she raised her hands to grip his hand that he caught sight of the ring. And she glimpsed sight of the rage that built up in his eyes as his eyes stretched angrily. His mask shifted as he grimaced and removed his hand from her mouth now that her laughter had died out.

This man, this Erik is no illusion, she realized.

_...Oh._

_"What the hell is this?" _He hissed violently.

* * *

**...Oh indeed, Drunk Christine, Oh indeed.**

** I'm excited, hope you are too. **

**Chapter FORTY is coming. You won't want to miss it. After all, we've got Drunk Christine with a wedding ring and Angry Erik with lots of explaining to do. Oh, and Raoul next door. Review :) **


	40. Too Urgent

**Chapter XXXX**

Moments of silence passed. She couldn't look away from him as the realization that Erik had returned to her hit her full force.

"What is this?" he glared at her fully, his heart had sped up to an unhealthy rate. He couldn't look away from the glistening diamond. It was a mockery of everything he was. It was beautiful, delicate, and lavish. It looked beautiful on her and yet it burned his eyes. It was more than just a ring; it was a claim on her.

Carefully he moved his hand away from her mouth and stood before the bed, still gripping her hand possessively and staring at the piece of jewelry on her finger. How it glittered!

"What is what?" She asked playfully, biting her lip to stiffle a laugh at his outraged expression.

"This! What is this!" He moved her hand in front of her eyes.

"Oh, that?" She waved her hand dismissively, "this is a hand-

"Christine," his tone was low and warning.

"It is a _ring_ Erik," she explained slowly, sitting up and staring at him cautiously, his eyes locked with the ring as if in a heated contest, "Raoul gave it to me. It is the engagement ring, don't you pretend to not know what it is," she rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away from him, scowling deeply, "he gave it to me recently. After you abandoned me."

_Abandoned her?_"What on earth are you talking about now?" The struggle to not yell was clear in his tone.

"You know exactly what I am talking of!" She snapped and tried to keep her voice in control, "I have not heard from you in _weeks_, and now you return asking me about an engagement ring?" she stood dizzily from where she sat and gripped the bedpost tightly, Erik watched warily as she gave him her back, "you were _gone_."

"I was removing everything from our home Christine," he stressed with annoyance, "it took more time than I anticipated. I slept through daylight and at night I was moving all of our instruments through the streets of Paris. That is what _I_ was doing while you were drinking and celebrating a ring," his voice became snappy, "it would take a normal man less than a week to pick up and move but as you can see I am not exactly able to have the help of friends."

That made her turn around, she stared at him with a serious expression, not really wanting to look anywhere else but him. He made her feel grounded, "I'll have you know that I was testing out the alcohol. I did not mean to get like this, and I am not so far under the influence that I am drunk. I am simply a little bit unstable."

When he rolled his eyes she knew he found her amusing, "of course you are not intoxicated. You are have simply lost control of your speech and your feet."

"I am in control of my feet!" she claimed indignantly, tightening her hold on the bedpost and placing her other hand on her hip for emphasis. He noticed how she locked her legs to keep from rocking forward and back. Erik swallowed back a laugh, "and you could not stop what you were doing for one night to come see me? Especially after the way you left me? Do you have any idea whatsoever of what I went through!"

"Lower your voice," he warned her and stalked forward, "the distance was supposed to also do you good. I realized many things after our last meeting."

A moment of silence transpired between them as he let his words sink into her head. He could see the softening of her expression; it alleviated a lot of the tightness in his chest. Solemnly he stepped forward until she was in arms length. The separation he had suffered made it nearly impossible to remain very far from her. He worked endlessly, doing his best to take all of their belongings to their new home, and every night he wished to come to her. But he knew that losing one night was losing hours and hours perfectly opportune moments.

Nadir kept him sane with reminders of what mattered.

The thought of taking her with him had occurred to him, but with their belongings still in the cave it would have been a danger. Raoul de Chagny would tear the Opera House apart in search of them. But now they had a new home, a home he hoped she loved. He had begun building trap doors all over it to ensure their safety. It was still not done. But he couldn't wait anymore. All of their belongings were out of the lair, now she could come back with him.

"And what of Nadir?" She asked with a shift of her weight, she stared at him with an interested blue gaze, "I wrote to him and he never responded."

Erik frowned now, "Nadir has not received any letters from you at all Christine. In fact he has often written to you, hoping to hear news of how you were doing, but upon getting nothing but silence he assumed the de Chagny's were hiding them. He did not dare come to the home in fear that they would be suspicious of his activity."

_No.. .they… they would not do that would they?_She reasoned quietly as her eyes widened with misery and shock, _of course they would. They do not want me associated with anyone of my past. But what of my letters? Are they not sending them out? Raoul told me they were…_

"They cannot be trusted," Erik stepped forward carefully. Waves of serenity rolled off of him as his shadow fell over her stoic face. As he touched her hand he noticed a shiver run through her, "rid yourself of this cursed thing on your hand."

She looked to what he was pointing out and saw the ring Raoul had given her. It was cutting off flow to the rest of her finger, or at least that's what it felt like.

Raoul had lied to her, and while she knew that the hurt she felt was irrational it stung her to know that she had thought so lowly of Nadir. The de Chagny's were not sending out the letters, and they were keeping Nadir's from her. It was as if they wished to keep her isolated. Perhaps more isolated then she had ever been before! _How could I have thought so lowly of them? God, smite me now._

"Yes," she mumbled with defeat and began twisting the ring off of her hand, "I want my old ring back." Angrily she twisted and pulled so roughly that the ring slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground, rolling until it fell over, "damnable man," she spit angrily. Raoul had betrayed her before, and yet it hurt to know that he was so intent on marrying her that he would isolate her so horribly.

"Christine how much did you have to drink?" Erik asked her cautiously, noticing how she swayed to and fro and spaced her legs for balance. He had to admit that she looked adorable, but all the same it worried him that she was not in all her senses. There was a slight flush to her face and her eyes were hooded and appeared unfocused.

"I had... I had... I do not recall. But not very much." She mumbled, hiccuping quietly and then covering her mouth with embarrassment.

Erik ran his hand over his face with exasperation, _this was not how I expected to find her. _

"Erik have you ever been drunk before?" She giggled.

"Yes Christine," he stated honestly.

"How are you when you are drunk?"

He scowled, "this is not the discussion we were having."

"Will I get to see it one day?" She wondered out loud, playing with the skirt of her evening gown and swaying it left and right.

"No."

Her face became sincerely disappointed, her rosy lips jutted out ever so slightly, "why?"

"Fine!" He lost is patience, "I will show you one day."

She grinned, pleased that she was getting her way. But the longer she remembered how she got into this state of mind the more somber her expression became,"am I the biggest fool on earth Erik?"

"No," he answered honestly, the white mask gleamed "you are not."

"Then why is it that I seem to fall for the most obvious of stupidities! Shall I stamp a reminder upon my palm?" She glared at the ring as it lay on the ground, blurring in her sights, "I should have known better then to behave kindly with him. I cannot believe that I allowed him to comfort me."

Erik felt his hands twitch at this, "what do you mean?" She looked up at him with unease, noticing how his jaw clenched and how the mask shifted as he frowned. When she did not answer he repeated himself darkly, "did he touch you?"

"E-Erik it was nothing like that-

"So then what was it?" He felt the rage flaring in his chest.

_If he touched her…_the thought cut off abruptly as he imagined the vicomte kissing her. It was so enraging that Christine noticed his eyes stretching and twitching with anger. She winced at the thought of his very choleric personality, "Erik please do not get so angry. It was nothing. I was very tired and very angry and hysterical," she forced herself to state the words as they were meant to be said. But her tongue felt heavy. It was not cooperating with her.

"Christine," his tone was warning, "tell me this instant or I will walk into his room and choke the life from him!" He exploded.

"_Shh_, Erik please—

"Tell me," he muttered.

"_Shh_! _Shh! Shh!_" She insisted despite the fact that he had already lowered his tone.

_I will never give her alcohol,_he thought with exasperation.

"He-he simply slept at my side, that is all Erik, I swear it," she bit her lip; "do you think I am insane? I would never kiss that man; I would never give myself to him."

The resentment still stirred at his chest. _The damn vicomte! Taking advantage of her emotional state to do this… I hate him more than ever before._The images continued, persistent and mocking. He knew what Christine looked like as she slept, she was tempting, and too angelic for the eyes of mere mortals. And now the vicomte had _slept_ at her side. He had gazed at her and been too close to her.

"Of course," he muttered with annoyance, believing her despite his tone, "you would never give yourself to the high and mighty vicomte. But I would not blame you if you entertained the idea. After all you allowed him to sleep at your side. You trusted that he would not take advantage of you."

"He promised me he wouldn't," she mumbled with her heavy tongue.

"And you believe him?" He snapped, and loosened his hold on her wrist. They dropped to her side, "of course you would, of course _anyone_ would. He is a handsome young man. He has a perfectly trusting face with wide hazel eyes and perfectly fair flesh, not grey and scarred as mine is, but do not worry my Christine," he breathed and glared past her head to the mirror that stood there. He could see himself too perfectly, "I know it is not your fault. He is the one who ensured to implant the idea that I had abandoned you, as if I ever would."

"Stop it!" She gripped the post for stability, _the room is still tilting on its side, good God I will never partake in drinking alcohol again,_"I hate this self-loathing attitude of your Erik. What happen to you to make you hate yourself so much?" She linked with confusion, "you are wonderfully talented, well spoken, intelligent… you have more talent then any man in all of Paris and yet you treat yourself as if you are nothing but a monster. And all because of your face?"

"Of course!" His stared down at her with anger, struggling to keep his voice down, "this face has ruined many opportunities for me. This visage has made itself my worst adversary. It has caused my _mother_ to fear me and loathe me. She despised me and threw me to the street! I was forced to live on my own, I was forced to scavenge the streets for rats and whatever animals I could lay my hands on. Do you know why? Because that was what I could afford. Garbage.

"And then Persia," he hissed it out like a curse, "I will not indulge your curiosity and cause you nightmare's by even explaining to you what that was like. But know that prison in Persia is nothing like prison here where you get a meal in the morning and in the afternoons. And with a face like mine they did not believe me to be human at all. Therefore I did not deserve human food, I did not get cooked meals like you, the beautiful people. Nadir," Christine's eyes bulged at the mention of him, "was the one who tried to keep me safe, he ensured that I received at least a piece of bread to fill my very hollow stomach. When I gagged at the smell of the feces and the rotting corpses nothing but my own stomach acid came out of me, Christine. That was how he first saw me. He caught sight of me getting sick and knew I was starving, aside from the more obvious signs. But even Nadir could not protect something like me. And one night the guards came in, pulled me from my cement mattress and blinded me.

"And so I was sold to a carnival. And would you like to know what they gave me to eat after catching sight of my handsome face? They fed me cat," her eyes widened, "yes Christine. I was forced to eat that for a while until I simply decided to starve myself, I did not enjoy having to kill the cat after growing so fond of the creatures who did not shun me. And they could not have that, no, no," his eyes raged with flames at the recollection, "they would not have their most famous horror show attraction dying. Especially if not by their own hands! They decided to feed me cold soup. And one day Madame Giry came to my aid after watching me receive my daily whippings for not looking into the mirrors. How could I? I did not look at my face very often at all Christine. It was just as much a horror to me as it was to them.

"And yet she released me from my bonds and took me to a certain Daroga who I had not seen for a long time," he caught sight of her trembling and stopped himself, "do not tell me that this face is nothing Christine. You have your beautiful face and I do not expect you to comprehend the difficulties of being a monster in the eyes of children and adults. But do not make light of what has caused me so much suffering. Do not make it seem like it is something I must simply 'get over'."

"This is more than a simple, 'lack of confidence'," his ardent eyes stiffened her, "do not make the mistake of thinking that I lack assurance. I know very well that I am more talented than the vicomte. I know very well that I am a skilled creature. But this," he waved a hand around his mask, "has caused me more suffering then you can ever comprehend. I have made sure to keep you safe from ever understanding how much pain a single human being, or a monster like myself, can go through!"

Christine opened her mouth to say something but didn't know what she could tell him.

_How could someone hurt him that way? _She wondered as she stepped forward a bit more, his eyes dimmed as he looked at her less directly. He seemed far away.

"Forgive me," she mumbled awkwardly, "I did not… I did not think that you had… I am so sorry."

"I do not blame you for not understanding this Christine; I never explained things to you," he tightened his jaw, "that is why I am always expecting you to come to your senses and run off to the arms of Raoul de Chagny. I look like a fiend," he stated quietly, "I have killed, and you have seen me do it on multiple occasions. And yet you wonder why I might expect you to feel attraction to the fop."

"You silly Phantom!" Christine slurred with annoyance, his eyes bulged at her.

_Silly Phantom? I am anything but a silly phantom;_he thought indignantly, _it's the alcohol._

Christine glared up at him with her hands on her hips, "have you lost your senses and your brain? I'll have you know that his fair skin and his wide hazel eyes do not hold my interest! He is nothing to me, and you know this. He is not my angel, he is not my protector, and he is not what I deem beautiful."

He looked away from her, trying to not choke on his shock over her words.

"I have grown up with you," she laid her hand on his chest for emphasis. He shuddered, "you have taught me beauty where others see none. They turn from true splendor because their eyes have not adjusted. You are everything I want," she spilled her feelings without embarrassment, knowing that she would not be able to stop, "you are my angel of life, and music. For God's sake Erik, I love you more than is logical!"

_She is entirely too beautiful…_He nodded, his throat felt dry. There was a significantly hard pressure at his chest as he looked down into her honest and fervent gaze, "I am yours." He vowed softly. She never looked so otherworldly with her wild hair and her feelings written all across her face, whatever invisible mask she wore no longer concealed what she had felt for so long. And they both knew it. He wanted to sob before her like the pathetic creature he thought himself to be. She did not know the destructive power her kind words held.

_Those words, she wastes them on me. She does not know what she says… but my Christine loves me. _

_She finds me pure… and whole,_"you will never comprehend how much I love you" His eyes flickered with flames at her, stopping her heart for a second, "do you have any idea whatsoever of all that I would give for you? And what I would take for you?" He could hear his voice threatening to choke under the pressure of his honestly.

"I do not want to find out, I do not doubt your word Erik. Never again would I be able to, I ... you are all that is right in my life. The only thing that has ever made any sense."

_Do not say that Christine, you should not use your words on someone so undeserving of them, and yet, I cannot get enough of your kindness. I am a leech on your heart. _Erik spoke quietly, staring into her blue depths with as much control as he could, "for as long as you will have me I am your most humble servant."

She rolled her eyes yet again, _he still does not understand. I will always want you__ you stubborn man. And I have been more than patient! And your time has run up._"Fine Erik," she wound her fingers into his cape, "It seems I must demonstrate to you that I do want you, now and always."

Christine gracefully rose on her toes with years of practice and pulled on his cape for leverage.

Lovingly, passionately, and all too hard, she crushed her mouth to his.

Erik gasped at the contact as she tightened her grip on his cloak and pulled him closer.

_This must be a dream! She would not press her lips to something so marred! _He thought as she pressed her mouth a bit more firmly to his own. But it was real. He knew it by the fire in his loins. And the urge to sob. But more powerful then that was the fierce need to bring her closer.

"Erik," she whispered softly against his lips, he released a hard breath and brought an arms around her, pressing her flush up against the length of his body and holding her face with the other. He needed this, she wanted this, he was not going to remove her from him. Not now, not ever. "Kiss me," she pleaded weakly against his mouth.

He bent his face unsure to her lips and eagerly pressed theirs together. The crackling fire in her chest exploded into a blaze as the one within his engulfed his entire body. Her rosy mouth was so warm, gentle and soft. The mask kept interrupting the fluid, new, and unsure movements of her mouth, but he didn't dare take it off. He wouldn't ruin the moment for her or himself, he did however need to taste her more. He had to.

Erik stole a taste of her bottom lip with the flick of his tongue. She gasped and blushed at the feeling of his warm breath on her. He was everywhere. His hand burned on her face as he gripped her jaw tightly, possessively dominating the way her head moved beneath his. Warmth shot between her legs and a tightening began at her loins. Again his tongue dashed out. Her breathing hitched in response.

Christine imitated and let her tongue slowly past her lips and skate gently over his bottom lip. Erik stiffened completely at the feel of her moist tongue running over the edge of his unmasked lip and to the other side where it was marred, swollen, imperfect and twisted. When she let it linger there he lost control of his throat.

A throaty moan escaped him and Erik claimed her mouth again, parting her lips forcefully with his own and tying his fingers into her long hair.

_Yes Christine, yes..._

_"_Oh_ God..." _she breathed very gently out around his mouth as she pulled away for air. Her head was spinning, or was it the room? She felt dizzy and elated, and very, very warm. Her hands had almost naturally gone to his neck at this point. Neither had realized it. All their focus was on their lips, and when she shyly looked up at him she noticed his eyes were dark and hooded. She resumed to shyly, gently, and with a lot of hesitation, kiss his chin. He felt a hard breath escape him through his nose, she wanted him. There was no doubt in his head of that now.

He had to stop, or he would have her in the bed right then and there.

"Christine," he held her face gently and kissed her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair, closing his eyes and trying to regain control, "Christine what have you done to me?" _  
_

"Nothing you haven't made me," she whispered breathlessly back, holding his wrists and stroking the cone on the outside.

They stood that way for a long time. Erik's tongue kept dashing out at random intervals to see if he could faintly taste her on his lips. But he could not. He knew that sooner or later he would have to taste her again. But would she want it? She was intoxicated. But she had wanted this before... would she want him to instigate it?

He so badly wanted to instigate it.

"Let us go now," he breathed out, "it is time to introduce you to our new home. Everything is set up, you are the only thing missing in our home. It will be a two day journey."

"So Far?" she could hear her voice had gone hoarse, but she was certain it was over what his mouth had just done to her. _I want to do that again... _

"Yes Christine," he breathed, licking his lips and then pulling away to stare down at her. He noticed that her lips were reddened, and her cheeks were the same color. He was almost certain he looked the same, he could feel the heat on his face, "let us go."

And with that they moved silently through the de Chagny mansion and to their new home.

* * *

**:O Did I just stop there? Yes I did. I went for quality not quantity with this one. Short, but revealing. Sad, but... good for them?**

**So I hope you guys enjoyed it :) I am most certainly EXCITED for these reviews. Did I do a good job with the kiss? Making her clearly unsure but still confident? I didnt want it to be over the top, but good enough to where you're all like OH YEAH FINALLY! **

**Review... :o XD**


	41. Restart

**Chapter XXXXI**

To her mild shock Erik had a carriage and a horse. She was immediately entranced by the beautiful animals and Erik told her that he had bought them and the carriage. They were theirs to name and care for.

While Christine didn't do much except sit in the back while Erik directed them, she felt exhausted.

Erik did not stop moving. He took secretive paths that kept them shielded. She, more than once, asked him to stop and rest. He would simply tell her, "I will rest when I am in our home." She dropped the subject eventually.

The truth was that she was also very excited to get to their home. She could hardly keep the excitement from coloring her tone as she asked him (from where she sat) what it looked like.

"The house is built of stone. It rests upon a large stretch of land. The grass itself is still uncut, and there is a winding road that takes you to the courtyard," Erik looked as if though he could see the home before him, "it has five rooms. And it is two stories high. There is a large kitchen, a study, a dining room and a wash room. There are stables for the horses, and outside the home there is also a garden with which you can do as you wish. There is also a rather obnoxious tree in the court yard; I have a mind to cut it down."

"It sounds beautiful," she whispered as she thought of it.

And of the privacy.

Christine hid her face so that Erik might not catch her blushing, although he was not staring at her at all.

Every since that most impassioned kiss Christine found herself unable, and almost unwilling, to think of anything else. It was so different from anything she had imagined. It wasn't soft and chase. It was… fueled by passion, and desire, and need.

It was perfect.

It was on the early afternoon of their second day of travel that Christine began to make out a large looming shape in the distance.

"Is that it?" Christine breathed as the horses drew them closer, "Erik that is not a house. That is a castle!"

"Oh, is that it?" He mused, and then shrugged nonchalantly as he led the horses up the winding path.

It was indeed castle like. It stood proudly above the uncut grass. The land stretched as far as her eye could see. There were hills and hills of nothing but… nothing! Just land and more land!

"Oh it's beautiful!" Wildly Christine jumped from the slow moving carriage, ignoring Erik's hiss. She began running forward and spinning around in the grass happily. Erik did not have the heart to scold her as he stopped the horses and watched her spin and grab at the grass.

He jumped down from the carriage and pet one of the horses gently before moving over to his Christine. She was sitting on the ground, fingering the long strands of grass. When his shadow came over her Christine's bright blue eyes looked up to him eagerly, "is it truly ours Erik? Is this our home?"

She looked too beautiful as she stared up at him, looking to him yet again, for reassurance. And as the wind whipped at her hair, tangling the curls, he felt the need to touch her. He couldn't deny himself that, especially not after how close she had allowed him to hold her.

_She allowed me to _kiss_ her!_

Erik leaned down to her, and gently touched her face. Christine shivered, thinking about how he had winded his fingers into her hair. His voice was earnest, and so soft that it blended with the wind, "it is truly ours Christine. No one shall bother us. No one will harm us."

She grinned, "we will hire help will we not? We cannot clean this entire home by myself."

"If that is what you wish," he agreed, albeit a bit stiffly. He took her hands and pulled her to a stand, "everything is already where it should be. The only thing that is missing now is to show you inside. Now follow me, and do not roll around in the grass Christine, it would do us any favors to have you covered in dirt," he smirked as she pouted a bit.

He began tugging her towards the large house, she grabbed the reigns of the horses and they follow obediently.

"We will finally be happy," she murmured.

**…**

The house was indeed beautiful.

Upon entering the courtyard the first thing Christine noticed was the door to the home. It was a massive wooden door. It was directly in view upon entering the yard. There were windows to the side of it, and although Christine could not see inside yet she was certain that Erik would do something to make the inside even more obscure.

There was also a walkway towards the left of the home, Erik told her that this led to the stables and then promptly led the horses, and her, in that way.

The stables were much too large for the two horses. Hay was littered everywhere and horses kicked up a bit of dust as they trotted to their proper places. Erik gave them one pat on the rump and then led Christine wordlessly towards the house.

"Have you named them yet?" She asked, noticing how his amber eyes looked intent on something.

"The darker one is named Ceasar, you have the freedom to name the other whatever you wish."

Christine bit her lip for a moment, "I will think on it. I must learn his character."

Erik said nothing but smirked slightly. Christine noticed that his hands were folded behind his back and he allowed one hand free only to push the door open.

As the evening light cascaded into the home she caught sight of the living room. It was to their left. There was a dark red seat with two other chairs around it so that if they had company everyone would see one another with ease.

Erik allowed Christine to wander about the house with an interested gaze. He could only hope she liked the home. He did not know what type of home she would want, and chose this one simply for the privacy it gave them. He tried his hardest to organize things in a way that would be comfortable to the both of them.

When Christine had finished walking around the home, admiring the modestly sized kitchen and the table tops, the cupboards, the various cooking tools he had ordered Nadir to get him, and when she had wandered all over the second floor and the bedroom and the study, he opened his mouth.

There were looks on her face, small frowns here and there, smiles in others. He couldn't tell if she was pleased. He was also very afraid to find out.

"Do you like it?" He asked quietly when she had reached the top of the stairs and had seen the entire home. Or at least, the parts she was aware of, "we will change the parts you do not like."

"I love it Erik," she smiled, "it is absolutely perfect. There is privacy, and it has your character."

"My character?"

"Yes, your character. It has a certain type of grace that cannot be described with simple words." She turned to him then and stepped closely. His entire body stiffened as he stared at her, "thank you."

Despite the fact that she was talking it was her proximity that made him deaf to her words. It reminded him again of the plaguing memory. Erik found that he could not stop thinking about what had transpired in Raoul de Chagny's home. He had not been able to get the taste of her mouth out of his senses. It seemed to him that the memory would drive him crazy – sooner rather than later.

_Privacy has never been such a blessing and a curse, _he thought as she continued thanking him, he only half listened, _this home provides me with enough privacy to not worry about the eyes of onlookers. But it also reminds me that I have her all to myself. Her lips have already been mine in a public setting, and now I am expected to fight my desires when I know that she is here? In private… with a raging beast?_

"Erik?" She called him back to reality, "I asked if you would enjoy a rest. I imagine that you are very tired. You have not slept."

The reminder sent a flare of soreness through his eyeballs. They felt almost dry.

She was right. He had not slept in two days.

"Go to sleep," Christine smiled, "I will make you something to eat for when you wake up."

Erik nodded and hesitated for a moment, there was a strange looked in her eye. He wanted to leaned down and touch her lips with his own. But she was not initiating it. He stayed very still. Eyeballing her mouth. Asking without speaking, but he would not dare stand there any longer. It was embarrassing that he could not take what his body already felt belonged to him.

"I will see you soon," he muttered and stalked past her. Christine blinked, slightly pink.

She had been hoping that he would kiss her. But it seemed that he was not as eager to touch her as she was eager to touch him.

_He is just tired, _she thought with a sigh. Wordlessly Christine began making her way down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen she looked for something to make him. Perhaps soup, she thought quietly as she began lighting the fireplace, or shall I make him tea?

They would most certainly need to get help.

A strange sound met Christine's ears. She turned with curiosity and gasped.

"Cat!" She proclaimed happily at the animal that watched her from the table. She pulled the animal to her chest and kissed her dark head over and over, not noticing the annoyed stare the animal gave her, "my dearest Cat! How are you darling?"

It struggled in her tight hold but settled eventually; knowing Christine would not release it.

"Do you like our new home?" She asked happily, "I most certainly do. It is quite possibly the most beautiful home I have ever seen despite its gloomy appearance. We will have to fill it with other animals for you, what do you think Cat?" The animal purred with content and rested its head against her breast. Christine smiled with thoughts of Erik, "we will have to convince Erik. But I do not think he will mind very much, do you?"

Christine eventually set the animal down and began to make something to eat for Erik. She decided on making him a simple soup as there was nothing else currently available to her.

But there was something weighing heavy on her mind despite her excitement over the home.

_Why has he made the choice to keep our rooms separate? _She wondered with confusion, _I imagine that he knows that I see him as more than a tutor. I kissed him! And now he thinks that I want our rooms separate?_

She sighed heavily and sat down in the kitchen table, waiting patiently for the soup. She would speak to him about that when he woke.

**…**

Hours later when the sun had gone down Erik opened his eyes. He could hear a gentle singing from somewhere in the house. Carefully he sat up and rested his face into his hand. He had dreamed about her. It was not the first time he had dreamed of Christine but this dream was different.

In the dream, which was more like a nightmare, she did not leave Raoul de Chagny's home. This time he had to force her out, carrying her against her will as she beat at his back and pleaded Raoul to _save_ her. This time she did not kiss him; she sobbed and begged for mercy as he tried to press his horrible mouth to her perfect skin. She pushed as he leaned over her hungrily, pleading her to kiss him.

And finally, when he brought her to their home she wept. For it was not beautiful, it was dusty, gloomy, dark, not worthy of her. Over and over he would fall to his knees, begging her to see the beauty underneath. And over, and over and she refused, only crying at the horror now before her eyes.

_It was nothing but a dream, _he reminded himself, grabbing for his mask and sliding it where it belonged, _and Christine loves our home. _

This thought alone made him smile the slightest bit. He had made her happy. There was no doubt of it in his mind. It felt as if though he could move the clouds. He never felt so powerful in his life.

But there was still one thing that lingered in his thoughts, forbidding him to feel fully at ease with her. And it was the desire to taste her mouth again. It made his stomach tighten.

_I must be patient, _he thought and stood.

Silently Erik made his way down towards her. Following her siren-like singing, he knew that she would be frightened by his very sudden appearance, so he purposely stepped a bit harder. Warning her of his approach.

When he found her she was stirring a pot of soup.

"Good evening Christine."

"Ah!" She jumped with shock and the cat scrambled from where it had been. Her eyes flickered to Erik nervously, "dear God Erik. You must stop that."

"I thought you would hear my approach," he shrugged and stepped deeper into the room, noting that she had lit several lanterns and candles. Then he ran his eyes over her fully and struggled to control himself from gawking.

Certainly, Erik had seen Christine in the light of candles. But now there was something awakened in his vision as he looked upon her. He noticed he very delicate curve of her neck. The light played almost too coquettishly on the planes of her face, making her eyes more alluring then was normal. They burned indigo at him, and for a long time he wondered if he would be able to control himself. He was almost certain she was going to make him lose any sense of power he had over himself.

But then again, that was exactly what he wanted, and he could almost swear that it was what she wanted.

"Erik, sit," she smiled and waved to a chair, he moved to the seat and watched her cautiously, "I hope you like it. I really did not know what to make for you. There was nothing else."

He sighed heavily, "forgive me. It escaped me to gather proper food. Tomorrow I will send for someone. You must compile a list of things we need."

Christine grinned and passed him a bowl of soup with a utensil.

For a long time neither talked. They simply ate in silence. Christine watched Erik curiously and he stared down at the food with a small frown. He seemed to be having a hard time eating.

"Is it not good?" He frowned with embarrassment.

"It is wonderful," he scolded her with his eyes for ever thinking she could displease him with her food. It did not matter how bad something was, to his tongue it would be a treat. For he knew what bad food was, she did not.

"Then why are you hardly touching your food?"

Erik's hands balled. Now he was embarrassed, his voice did not betray his frustration. It was evident, "the mask makes it very difficult to eat."

Christine froze as she stared at him. How had it not occurred to her?

"Oh," she stood quickly, "I will leave so that you can remove it if that is what you wish. I understand that you are private."

"No, I will eat later." He moved the bowl away from himself and made a move to stand but Christine gripped his hand tightly. He glared at her hand, would she hold him hostage to his embarrassment?!

"Erik," her eyes were fervent, "this is our new home, is it not?" He nodded once sharply, "and this is a new beginning, correct?" again he nodded, and slowly took a seat knowing that this was not the end of it. Her eyes were very annoyed, "we have all the privacy we've ever needed. We have expressed our love to one another. You and I are bound to one another by unmovable forces. I will never shun you Erik."

"What are you saying?" He spoke through his teeth.

She took a deep breath, "it would please me to see your face, fully and under new circumstances and with a new understanding of things. I will not push the matter, but it would please me greatly if you would let me look upon your face. Please?"

He did not blink at her. He was too busy trying to understand her words for simple bodily functions such as that and breathing.

_Christine wishes to see my face? Again! Has she lost her mind? Evidently so!_

"Trust me," she whispered standing and moving her chair to his side, he clenched his jaw and tightened his hand to a fist. She stroked the knuckles of his hand gently, "Erik please trust me. I … I don't know how you can ever think that this is a home if you cannot be at home… with yourself."

He was silent for a long moment, pondering it.

"You will hate me," he started, "upon seeing my face; you will never want to be near me. For my face is a ghastly thing and the mask—

"I do not care for your mask," she stated patiently, "if you will not remove your mask then I will leave the room so that you will eat. I will not be angry with you. It is your choice, not mine. But I will leave this room so that you can eat. You have hardly touched your food."

They stared at each other for a long time. His stare was heated where hers was cool; his was annoyed where hers was patient. _Endlessly_ patient, almost _annoyingly_ patient.

He wanted to remove the mask, and for a brief moment he wanted her to rip it off his face. Force him to be free of the thing.

Slowly he removed his hand out of hers and raised it to his mask. He could feel the urge to tremble, and did not have enough strength to fight it as it worked itself to his fingers. _Christine is good, Christine is not like the others. She will not harm me, she has promised!_

Christine held her breath as his hand approached the mask. The unmasked side of his face was turned towards her.

_Do this for her, you coward, _a new voice hissed within him. Daring him to be strong – if just for her, but this was not for her. It was for their future.

Closing his eyes Erik fought the raging storm in his chest and lifted the mask, "please do not shun me," he murmured quietly to her. Her only response was to touch his left hand and squeeze meekly.

Christine watched him lift the mask away and then set it on the counter.

The air graced his face carefully. And for a long moment all that Erik could do was _feel_. The freedom to move his jaw as he so wished as strange, and the cool sensations on his cheek was almost fascinating. He knew she could not see his face yet, the better half was facing her. Subtly Erik flexed his jaw left and right.

_Should I turn his face to me? Would he let me? _She wondered as Erik moved his jaw around.

Christine bit her lip nervously and reached up with a lot of hesitation. She hoped he would not be angry. He had come so far. The last thing she wanted was his anger.

"Do not touch me," he stated quietly, noticing her approaching hand. It froze in the middle of the air and she lowered it back down, nodding quickly at him, "I must do this myself."

Without wasting another second Erik turned his entire body in the chair so that she was looking at him directly.

"Oh Angel," she whispered out as she looked upon him.

A skull head indeed. And it was so horrific that tears sprang into her eyes.

"I am sorry," he mumbled quickly and started reaching for his mask but she stopped his hand, pinning them as they trembled in her grasp, she looked at him further, trying to become accustomed to it. He closed his amber eyes with sadness and forced back the urge to cover her eyes for her as she looked at him.

_She should not have to look at something so horrible. She was kind; she did not deserve such a monster._ He wanted to be perfect for her. That was all he wanted.

Christine first noticed the distorted nostril and the way it elongated the cavity of his nose, making both nostrils uneven. And the sunken cheek did not match the other. Furthermore his bloated lips, the same lips she had so lovingly kissed did not match the other half of his face. Shadows encircled his deep set amber eye and yet, what disturbed her the most was the sunken appearance his cheeks. It was simply so strangely gaunt!

_Know that I am built up of death from head to foot and that it is a corpse that loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you! _She remembered his words with solemnity and reached up boldly to stroke the marred flesh. Upon contact his entire body seized and so did hers.

The flesh was horrible to the touch. It was cool and hot. It felt… velvety, unnaturally soft. And almost frothy? She did not know what it was about the flesh that made it so strange to feel. But she could not stop. She continued to delicately trace the brow bone, and his too prominent facial structure.

_She touches me with tears in her eyes, but she is not running, _he thought with equal enchantment, _she is not screaming. _

"My Erik," she started courageously, "this face holds no horror for me now, and your face does not hide the beauty of your soul." He shut his eyes and leaned into her warm touch, he swore he was going to lose consciousness at any minute, "and yet it is in your soul that the true distortion lies. You must release yourself of all guilt and anger. You will never again suffer at the hands of anyone. I will not let that happen."

"Oh Christine," he whispered and lowered his face so that the undistorted half was shielded in the darkness, only the marred side remained. _How could she say something such as that? How does she love something so ruined? Truly I have blinded her over the years. For no logical human would ever see something such as this and not run in the other direction! And yet I do not dare pull the blindfold off, I would not frighten her again. How could I after tasting the joys of her mouth and experiencing the thrill of her kindness? How would I go about it! _"You are too good to me," the words left him softly; "you know not what you say."

"I know exactly what I am saying," she responded with a stroke of his jaw, "now, I have another question to ask you." She removed her hands, leaving him wanting. She seemed to notice the slight frustration on his face because she moved her chair a bit nearer and took his hand. With the other he lifted the spoon and brought it to his mouth, savoring the meal without difficulty, "why are we not sleeping together?"

He choked on the liquid and almost made a mess had he not slapped his hand over his mouth. _What?!_

"Erik are you alright?" Christine stood with worry and trembled where she stood as he cleared his throat.

"I am alright," his voice came out hoarse, "what did you mean by your question?" _Does she dare suggest having sexual intimacy? _

"Why is my bed in another room," she rephrased, unaware of what he had thought she meant, "I thought…" she blushed and looked at the candle instead of him, "I thought that we would be sharing the same room."

He thought about that for a long time, the heat on his usually masked face rose with the thought of her beside him, "I do not know Chrisitine. I did not think you would want to."

"Of course I want to! I… I just thought you wanted the same."

"Do you truly wish to share a bed?" He murmured quietly, thinking of the prospects of having her at his side. It would be the death of him if she said yes. The temptation of her would be so great. Every night he would endure the most sweet and torturous struggle against excitement. _I am the worst type of masochist. _

"Yes Erik," she murmured, "but only if you want to. I just thought that," she sighed, forcing the words out, "we would be past this. I thought that after everything that we have declared. And the kiss—

"You forget that I have not been here since that most intimate moment."

"Yes, that is true."

"I do not mind the thought of you in the same bed as I," he noticed her smile brightly, the simplest things gave her so much joy, it reminded him that he needed to try to make her smile like that more often, "now have you gotten your questions off your mind?"

"Yes." She thought happily and marched to the other side of the table. She looked upon his face fully and sighed with contentment. Erik shifted still not used to the exposure but ignoring it.

There was only one thing wrong, _he has already slept, _she thought with irritation, _I will have to stay awake and tired for as long as necessary. And only when he is in bed will I join him._

She smiled a bit darkly and began eating, he had unknowingly awakened a most fervent desire in her body.

* * *

**Operation: Seduce Erik has begun.**

**What deviousness will our Christine come up with? What raging fire shall flood the soul?!**

**I don't know. But we'll certainly find out. **

**Expect some funny and awkward things in the coming chapters. They won't be so long, they'll be taking us through the days and perhaps weeks? of Christine trying to complete Operation S.E. (Seduce Erik).**

**Let's wish her luck! She's going to need it.**

**What did you all think? :) Erik has taken a big step. Following chapters (I'm warning you now) are going to be pretty lighthearted. Christine - GOOD LUCK! **

**Review :) **


	42. Deviant

**Chapter XXXXII**

Erik sat in his study absent mindedly running his eyes over the yellowed pages of his leather-bound book. It took all his focus just to understand the words before him. It was not that he could not understand at all, it was that his mind was elsewhere, on one person in particular.

Jonathan.

That beast which had harmed Christine.

_I should have killed him, _he reasoned with annoyance, _the boy has lived long enough, and there is no use for him anymore. Christine must not find out about him, for if she did I do not think I would bear the sight of her anger and hurt. _

Erik closed the book slowly. Reading was a futile attempt when the boy plagued his mind so restlessly, _I must talk to the Daroga of disposing of him._

Erik and Nadir had had a strange encounter the last time they saw one another. He could still remember Nadir's outraged eyes as he explained to him the situation of the boy:

"I will not have him in my home," he told him simply, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of the tunnel. Nadir stared with shock, "if Christine should stumble upon him with her endless curiosity it will mean trauma and betrayal whenever she looks my way. I will not have it."

"And what do you propose I do?" Nadir crossed his arms too, glaring at the masked man with a look of borderline amusement, "how is this my problem?"

Erik's amber eyes slid to Nadir Khan knowingly, he knew very well what he wanted, "I will keep him here. But you must return every day to ensure that he has not fund some means of escape," _as if that were possible,_ he thought smugly, "you will have to feed him. That is a certainty as I will not have him dying—

"No! No!" Nadir began pacing angrily, "I am not participating in this slow torture—

"Then he will die of starvation Daroga," Erik stated patiently, "do not make the mistake of thinking I care. If he dies of starvation it will not be anything that will inhibit my ability to go on living."

Nadir glared at him for a long time after that, and then he growled something in Persian, relenting.

Often he found himself daydreaming about Raoul. He wondered how the boy had reacted upon finding nothing but his blasted ring on the ground. He hoped that the boy had broken down into a ball of tears. It was exactly what he deserved.

And then his thoughts would inevitably return to that most fevered kiss.

"Erik!" Christine called softly from somewhere in the house, disrupting his dreaming, "can you come here for a moment, and I require your height."

Erik stood and smirked.

When he walked to the library where he could still hear her fumbling around the first thing that caught his eyesight was the sunlight filtering in through the window. It just wouldn't do. He would have to remember to get a curtain of some sort to block out the blinding light. It was almost painful.

When his eyes made their way to where Christine was his eyes narrowed at her most precarious position.

She stood on a chair, reaching for the top of the shelves that lined the walls. His eyes were instantly drawn to the way she leaned forward, straining for the book. Her bottom pushed out slightly as she turned her spine in at the base. It was hardly a position to reach for something in. And it was a challenge to not stare at her as she strained for the book, the dress was clinging to her petite form in the most tormenting manner.

She turned her head to him and blinked a little too much, "oh, Erik, I cannot reach the top shelf. Can you please fetch me that book over there," she pointed to the book that was so clearly within her reach.

"Certainly," he responded blankly, removing his eyes from her body.

Carefully Erik stood beside her, very aware of the way she stared at him with a slight furrow between her brows. He pulled it out and held it out to her, smirking at the title. She bit her lip and mumbled a gracious response before hopping off of the chair.

He kept his eye on her as she walked to the desk in the room and set the book down. But she did not open it, she just stared at him.

"Are you going to read Christine?"

"Yes," she smiled perfectly.

"Oh?" He came closer to her now, running his eye over the title once more, "and what made you interested in this particular book?"

She blinked, "I… I have heard a lot about this story. It seemed particularly interesting after all that Madame Giry had told me," she lied easily, and then flipped the book open.

"Madame Giry suggested it?" Erik stepped closer, "are you certain of that Christine?"

She frowned, confused as to why he was so suspicious. Were her intention so easy to read? "Yes Erik, I am very certain. She said it was fascinating and enchanting, a beautiful love story."

"Then I shall stay with you and read as well," he grabbed a random book and sat on one of the chairs before the desk. Christine eyed him suspiciously then sighed and sat down.

Now she had to feign interest in this book.

Christine flipped the book open carefully and moved the pages aside until she reached the fifth page.

Erik bit his lip as he caught her frown from his peripheral vision. It was taking him everything inside of him to not laugh at her.

"What is this!" She breathed out with shock at the drawings before her. They were crudely drawn individual's! _Naked!_ Each drawing illustrated precarious positions that lured her eye more than she liked. She blushed furiously and looked up at Erik who had a raised eyebrow.

"What is what Christine? Did Madame Giry not suggest it for you?" His voice was serious, but his eye held a playful twinkle. She was a horrible liar.

"This-this—

"Let me have a look," Erik stood fluidly and walked to her side. She stiffened as he leaned over her and planted on hand on the top of the book as if she might yank it away from his sight. She reddened further as he examined the image.

There was a man there with an erection much too large to be normal. A woman lay splayed out beneath him, wanton and not as feminine as biology would have dictated.

"Whatever made you pick this book out?" Erik asked lowly, noticing how she retreated backwards into the seat with embarrassment.

"N-nothing I did not know—

"It is perfectly normal to be curious," Erik teased her, but his tone did not betray his intention, she blushed some more and lowered her gaze as he looked down at her, "there are many different positions in this book, let us see the next page, shall we?"

With deliberate slowness he turned the page, letting the sound of it move through the air. Christine shifted uncomfortably as the next image met her eyes. In this one the woman was on her side and the man lay next to her but behind her. Her leg was lifted and his intention was clear.

"Do you know what this book is about Christine?"

"Yes…" she breathed, her eyes locked in on the page.

"I do not think you do," he said quietly, smoothly, his voice one of pure control while she trembled where she was sitting, not daring to look up at him as more embarrassment washed through her.

See, she had picked this book out intentionally. She had indeed seen the title but did not expect that it would have been so…

Sexual!

She wanted to run from the room.

_But no!_ she thought with anger, _this was not going to work out in his favor! I will not lose. _

"Albertus Magnus named five positions that one should have intercourse in," Erik started softly, "they came in a certain order. That order is acceptable to least acceptable. You see these were ideas set out by the church, there was ways to have intercourse. And they are listed in such an order; the most acceptable is with the man above the woman. The second is beside each other. The next is sitting. The last two, which are least acceptable, are standing and _a tergo_."

She looked up at him shakily; her eyes were full of curiosity. Only he could satisfy it, and he knew it.

"_A tergo_?" She murmured quietly, "I do not understand."

"Well you see," he started softly, noticing how the more he spoke the more she shivered under his intense gaze, "there are more ways to have intercourse then the way that is 'proper' as some would say. There is another place where a man can _enter_ a woman, "she shivered as an image of Erik above her came uninvited, "it is more painful, and some would also claim more pleasurable. _A tergo, _is a Latin term meaning from behind."

"I see…" She blinked with shock. There? That was just… she did not know what to say, "and people really do that?"

"Yes Christine," he smiled the smallest bit as she leaned deeper into her chair, staring up at him so sweetly. It made his body warmer just thinking of her in such intimate positions as the book suggested. He would have stopped himself from such thoughts. But how could he when she stared at him so innocently, so innocent to a world that only he could teach her of. Just the thought made him shift uncomfortably; his pants were suddenly becoming tight. And more images of her flashed through his head.

"And… do women find pleasure in such a thing?" She asked softly, looking up at him.

He regained some composure, "I do not know," he shrugged and stood up straight. She stared up at him curiously, "I imagine they do."

"And what about standing?" She asked curiously, "I would thin kthat is the most practical as it can be used practically anywhere."

He almost choked on his voice, she was looking up at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And again, images of her entered his mind but he snuffed them out quickly, "I suppose so."

"Well that's wonderful," she shrugged, knowing exactly what she was doing, "I do not know why there is only one position that is labeled truly 'moral'," she looked up to him then, "I would most certainly enjoy being immoral with a consenting companion."

Erik's eyes bulged and he stumbled over an answer. _What is she saying to me? What is she doing to me!_ "I-I need to compose… " he hated the stuttering that she caused, "I expect you to meet me in the music room later. We will practice," Without another word he rushed out of the room and left Christine alone.

A few moments passed and then she heard him shutting the door to the music room.

Christine burst into a fit of laughter and covered her mouth to stifle most of it. Her feet kicked eagerly at the air as she struggled to catch her breath. His face had been so strangely shocked.

_Did he truly think he had the upper hand? _

Christine grinned and closed her eyes to catch her breath.

Yes, the operation was going perfectly so far.

Christine instantly began plotting her next move.

In the music room Erik laid his head on the piano, struggling to regain composure. She would drive him to the point of insanity.

* * *

**Short and sneaky! Just like Christine!**

**Haha I wanted to also Clarify Christine's plan here.**

**She knew what the book was about all along, however she did not think that it would be so... shocking! Hence her bit of apprehension at the images. Erik thought that she was up to something but didn't really understand what, but he knew that Madame Giry did not suggest that book for her - afterall that didn't really make sense. **

**So then Erik thought to start teasing her about it and Christine was like "HA! WRONG ANSWER!" And flipped the script. **

**:) Let's see what deviousness she comes up with next shall we? Hope you all enjoyed that. **

**And now you know what's going on with Jonathan! He is very much alive and under the care of Nadir... Undoubtedly Erik has to figure something out as Nadir can't take care of him forever. So let's see what happens! I already think I know how I want to end the story. So stay tuned because I think there will be about... fifteen? more chapters. Not really sure yet. So.. :o let's see what happens mhm? I have an idea for a POTO story I've been tossing around. Not sure if I'm going to go ahead with it just yet. But I will not start working on it until this one is done.**

**REVIEW? :) What should Christine do next!**


	43. Insomnia

**Chapter XLIII**

She was up to something. And it had never been as clear as now.

Earlier she had 'mistakenly' tumbled into his lap and all too coincidentally landed with a perfect grace, her arms thrown around his neck and their faces almost touching. And now she refused to go to bed without him.

Erik watched her through suspicious eyes as she refused to crumble under the waves of sleep threatening to crush her. Christine sat in front of him with a dazed look on her face. Her hands were curled around the arm rest and for a long moment her eyes began to droop.

She seemed to be waiting for him to get tired, that much he knew, because whenever he asked her to go rest she simply stated that she was not tired. And yet whenever he stood he could feel her eyes following him almost anxiously.

"Christine what is it that you are doing to yourself?" Erik asked and casually flipped a page in the book he was reading, he noticed Christine's gaze snap up with a flush. He knew it was embarrassment, "you ought to be in bed."

"I am not tired Erik, I am simply resting my eyes. Have you never done this?"

"Absolutely not, I do not close my eyes unless it is necessary. If things were my way I would never have to close my eyes again."

"Is this your horrible sense of paranoia speaking Erik?" Christine smirked, "do you wish to keep your eyes open only for the danger of the world?"

"And of course," he remarked smoothly, "your existence. Dreams of you pale in comparison."

Christine blushed slightly and then bit her lip, "you are too kind."

"And you are too sly," the wind outside howled, "you have been up since yesterday and you have yet to sleep. I can see that your eyes are closing and yet you refuse to take yourself to bed. Do you think that I do not know that you are up to some devious thing Christine?"

"Devious?" She exclaimed to hide the shock in her eyes, "I would never be such a thing, now, are you tired Erik? You seem fascinated on the topic."

He shook his head slowly, "absolutely not. I have not slept and truly do not feel any urge to do such a thing. Besides, we must discuss something of grave importance. That is of course unless you have come to your senses and decided that it is time for you to rest-

"No. I have not," she smiled almost proudly.

"Alright, then let us begin. If you have not forgotten I assigned the role for my Don Juan especially for you. The managers have not assigned this to anyone else for fear of displeasing me. They understand that if they should disobey a disaster shall occur. But they have to continue putting on shows nonetheless. Il Muto is playing at this moment in time and I would like to know what you think about playing the main role."

"The main role?" Christine's eyes bulged "Erik I have not been on stage for quite some time."

"Yes but you are the best at what you do. Your talent never fades."

She frowned at him.

"Are you displeased?" He felt a strange tightening in his chest. There was a look of extreme concentration on her face. But he could read her, he knew that there was something wrong.

"It is not displeased as much as confused. Do you propose that I simply _take_ the role? Erik there are certainly people there that already have the role. I do not feel comfortable simply _taking_ it. That makes me feel as if though I were a thief and you my assistant."

"They do not deserve the role."

"You do not know that."

"Christine –

"No Erik," she frowned, "I understand your love for music, and I respect your opinion however bias it is. But I simply cannot allow you to demand roles for me yet again. Do you know what they will say when I've returned? They will say that I am _favored_," she stood and shook her head tiredly, "I will not have that."

He watched her for a long moment. Pondering whether or not he would put up a fight against her reasoning. But it was not flawed, it was in fact very sound. And yet he was not pleased at all by her choice.

"Fine," Erik tightened his hold on the book, she sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose, "I will read until I grow tired. Until then I think you should go to rest. It will do you no good to simply exhaust yourself."

Christine read the annoyance in his voice. But she was much too tired to ask him if he was angry with her. Whatever the answer was wouldn't matter. She was not changing her mind on this.

"Goodnight Erik."

"Goodnight Christine," he responded as smoothly as always. She left him in silence and trudged up the stairs. When she reached her bed she bit her lip and thought.

Would this be the opportune moment to seduce Erik?

No, certainly not. For he was not in the mood to even speak to her anymore, but that did not mean that she would not _try_. After all, it was when Erik was at his worst that she found him touching her the most.

Christine reached for her nightgown and threw it on, very aware of the coolness in the room.

This would have to do.

She pinched her cheeks slightly to give them a rosy tone and then tip toed to his bedroom. Once there she opened the windows and stared out into the night, he would be in for quite a shock… she hoped.

* * *

**Oh, what? Did I stop THERE? Well, no, because guess what darlings, the next chapter is right there, go check, but before you do that, drop me a review? :) **


	44. Clip Her Wings

**Chapter XLIV**

Erik sat there for a long moment. Damning his mouth to hell.

He knew he shouldn't have told her anything, but she had wanted honesty. And yet he found himself not wanting to tell her the truth. Even now he regretted it. Il Muto was the perfect return for her, and yet she refused on the basis of fairness. _To hell with fairness. None of them are as capable of bringing music to life the way she does…_

He thought of her upstairs, alone and sleeping. Sadness filled him. He hoped that she was not upset at him for the way he had so coldly dismissed her.

_She looks for sympathy… I give her sorrow. She asks for honesty, I've none to borrow. She needs my tender kiss, she silently begs it of me. I give her ugliness! Why does she love me? Beneath this mask I wear there is nothing of me, just horror, shame, despair! And yet… there she is. Why does she love me?_

The questions turned over and over in his head. He did not understand it at all. In nature the bird does not mate with the rat, the bird does not look at the rat. They are on two different planes of existence. One is beautiful and soars high above the other, the other resides in the dark, tormented by the outside world for being what it is. A scavenger.

_I am a murderer, and yet, silently, she promises me that I am good. _But he was not good, and it seemed that she would never understand that. And as much as it frustrated Erik he did not want her to ever lose that faith in him. For if she did he swore he would go mad from rage.

He felt stupid and illogical. He did not deserve her skin or her lips. Good men did. And yet she was there! Waiting for him! While he soaked up his rage down here.

Standing up Erik began making his way hurriedly to the bedroom. He needed her. She provided an ease to the tightness in his chest. It made him want to yell with annoyance. It was an impertinent pain that flared up at the more he thought of the distance between the two of them.

When he approached her bedroom door open he paused before sticking his head inside, "Christine?"

Upon reaching no answer he let his vision roam the room. But she was not there. Erik frowned with sincere confusion. And then fear gripped him. He had seen this before. He had seen the emptiness of her room, and whenever silence greeted him it was never good.

Erik instantly glided towards his bedroom. She had to be there, he had heard her on the second floor!

He pushed the door open frantically and his amber eyes roamed the darkness.

She lay there with her back facing him. She was clearly sleeping. Even in the dark she seemed to glow, basking in the very few rays of the moon.

He approached her silently and walked around until he was at her side of the bed, nearest to the open window. He approached the window and shut it. Silencing the howling wind that had chilled his room. Then he approached her.

"Christine?"

She frowned with annoyance in her sleep and turned onto her back. Her lips parted and for a long moment Erik stood absolutely still. The dark satin bed sheet had slid down to expose one of her clothed breasts. He released a sharp sound and blinked down at her with shock. The darker center of left breast stood taut against the thin fabric of her nightgown.

"Christine," he whispered her name out breathily and sat beside her, dropping his head into his hands. He felt the tightening starting at his groin. It made him feel disgusting as she lay vulnerable to his gaze. And yet he couldn't remove the image from his head. He felt like a rabid dog. He had yet to see her naked and yet the slightest hint of what lay beneath all those damned fabrics made him lose his self-control.

"Erik?" She whispered it out in her sleep and shifted behind him. He looked to her and found her frowning

"I'm here Christine," he murmured gently and stroked her cheek as she dreamed.

She did not respond, she turned her face to his hand and rested her lips against his thumb. He drew in one hard breath. But he did not dare draw his thumb away from her full pink lips.

"God help me," he whispered and turned her face towards him.

As soon as he kissed her Christine woke up with a victorious ghost smile. But the memory of her victory died as fast as it had come. His mouth was slow like molten lava against her own. And then, to her extremely shock she felt him shifting so that he was above her. Her breathing sped underneath his own as he pressed the length of his body to her own.

Christine dragged her mouth to his jaw and he was fully aware that she was now awake. His breathing became heavy above hers as his erection strained against the cloth of his pants. She gasped slightly at the hardness pressed at the inside of her leg. She hadn't even realized that she had parted her thighs.

"Now, Erik please?" She breathed and claimed his mouth again. Her hands searched for the bed sheet that acted as a barrier between the two of them and she began to angrily rip it away from between them.

"No, no-

"Yes," she whispered hungrily back. He hated the urge to have her. It didn't agree with the part of him that was so slowly fading. He wanted her. He wanted her body so badly it was painful.

"Christine, are you certain?" he murmured around her mouth. This couldn't be happening, could it? There was an all-consuming fire raging inside of his body, and try as he might he could hardly think of anything else. Flames were rising up off of her skin and before he could stop himself his hands were on her breasts, caressing and memorizing.

She gasped at the feeling of his hands there. She had often touched her breast when she was bathing but it never felt like _this_. It felt so amazingly… tingling. A whimper of pleasure rolled through her throat as his palms pressed against her hardened nipples. She stole a lick as his lip.

"No, no, no we cannot," Erik began to retreat but Christine latched onto his collar and did not allow him to pull away. Yet again her mouth was on his and he did not protest.

"Touch me again," she pleaded softly, in the dark he could see her darkened gaze. She looked different, she looked transformed with her lust, _lust for me, _he relished with fascination, "Erik—

"Yes Christine," he murmured and lowered his mouth to her throat. He would give her satisfaction. Her skin never tasted so delectable.

Her legs widened and he settled between them eagerly. A hard breath left him as his erection pressed against her leg. He dared not move his body up. If he came into contact with her he knew that would be it.

"Take this off," she whispered almost greedily and tugged at his collar, "please."

"No, no Christine," he shook his head and kissed her jaw tenderly, her fingers rested on his throat, "I will give you a different type of pleasure lest you should be scarred by this horrible body."

He could feel the protest building up within her but his lips were already on hers, claiming it and silencing her.

He gave a series of hard exhales, and it felt as if though every breath shot down between her legs. She knew that this was true insanity, she couldn't help the things she was saying or doing or wanting. Somewhere, in the more logical side of her she knew that Erik had knowledge of this too.

"Erik, please," her breath escaped her and suddenly she raised her hips up and rolled them against his thigh.

His breath choked itself out of him at her gesture. He quickly pinned her hips down with one hand. She whispered his name out but he hardly heard it. Blood was rushing to the already painful erection. And his pulse was in his ears.

"No, no," Erik dragged himself away from her with as much control as he could. But she grabbed him by the collar and kept him to her. When he raised himself she followed stubbornly and glared up at him, "Christine-

"Don't leave me like this," she whispered with lust in her voice, "please… Erik you've done this to me."

"No Christine," he pleaded softly, "you are not ready-

"I am," she whispered out, staring up at where she believed his face to be, "I want you."

"I'm going to hell," he murmured quickly before pulling her hair gently back and latching his mouth to hers. He ripped the mask violently off and then fisted his hands in the material of her nightgown, "lay back," he ordered around her lips. She shivered under the command and curiously obeyed as he kissed her neck gently. Christine became breathless all over again and the trickle of his fingertips up her thigh was achingly slowly.

"What are you—

"Shh," he ordered. He silenced a groan against her throat as his hips involuntarily pressed his stiffened ever against her thigh in one jerky movement. When he had the dress up by hips he began to eagerly tug down at the underwear she wore. Her breath picked up as Erik sat up and stared down at her. She caught the flash of his amber gaze and held her breath eagerly.

He pulled the fabric down her legs until it was at her ankles. She blushed violently and he quickly cursed the darkness. His eyesight was good, but he could not capture her form as much as he wanted to. He could feel his breath rushing out of him as he stared down at her. He could hardly think of anything but the beautiful form beneath him. He could even see the gleam of her white thighs. But it was not enough. He was blinded not by the dark, but by the curiosity.

But, he still knew that she was magnificently beautiful. Even if he could not see her fully. He never felt so unworthy of her, and then that selfish pride strung itself up again. She was his.

Erik quickly rested his hand on her taught stomach and began dragging his hand slowly down.

"Erik," she breathed and shut her eyes tightly, knowing he could not see her perfectly in the dark. She hoped he couldn't see the redness that had spread to the base of her neck. She could feel his fingers trickling like water drops down her stomach and she knew where it was headed but she had no idea of what it was he planned to do.

When his hand rested on the cut hair of her mound, heat flashed in one hot burst through her and her entire body stiffened. Erik watched her with interest as he knowingly pressed the pad of his thumb, the same one she had kissed earlier, against the hood of her heat.

"Oh! Erik," it escaped her in one gasp and her head rose and fell against the pillow gracefully. She wanted to watch, but she found herself unable to hold the weight of her head up.

"Do you know what it is that makes this so beautiful?" Erik's voice was at her ear and yet nowhere near her, she stared up at the ceiling with fascination as he circled his finger right _there_, "I expect an answer, my love."

"N-n-no," she whispered and made a move to roll her hips but his other hand pressed down on her side, stilling her movement and making her a prisoner to her own body and his hands.

"Your inexperience Christine," he whispered, everywhere and nowhere, she thought she was losing her mind, "you do not know what to expect. Your body will react however I want it to. If I do this—

"Oh God…"

He smirked and repeated the motion, gliding his thumb up her center and to the peak, the slick warmth made him shudder, cracking his control slightly, "you will fall apart so easily," he stated and bent low to her ear, "you are so close…"

"Erik," she whimpered and wrapped her arms around him. He bit her earlobe slightly and flicked his finger against the root that caused her so much pleasure and torture, "please-please-

"Please what?" He licked her throat and shut his eyes, breathing hard to control himself. She was pleading him, and he relished in the sounds of such a beauty needing him. Yearning and craving him.

"Please!"

"Do you even know what you want Christine?" he teased lightly and drew his mouth to hers, she released a sharp mewl and trembled wickedly against his body, he could not believe what he was doing, "I will show you what it is that you want." His voice had darkened considerably.

With a glide of his thumb down her slick heat and then another to the top he watched her began to pant, her chest, still clothed, rose and fell quickly. Her hips rebelled under the pressure of his right hand, she was attempting to raise her his but he would not let her. He removed his hand.

"No!" She cried out with dismay and outrage.

"You want a beast Christine," he reminded her in her ear. She gave the slightly whimper, it sent a chill through him, "what do you think your God would say about that?"

"I do not care," she urged him as he eased the pressure on her hip so that she would raise her hips only the slightest bit, she held him closer. He breathed in the scent of her hair and locked his hips so that they would not roll against her, "take me, take me, take me."

"Yesss," he hissed quietly in her ear and bit her neck gently. Quickly Erik returned his hand down to her and rubbed his slickened thumb against her, "do you feel that pressure, building inside of your heavenly body Christine?" he wondered gently, kissing her jaw and cherishing her, _so beautiful, all mine, _"that is your body craving me."

"_You_…" she breathed out and bit her bottom lip, shutting her eyes tightly as he moved his finger quickly against there, pressing tighter, and tighter, circling faster and faster. "Oh! Erik!"

Her back arched off and lifted him slightly with it as she approached the brink of her sanity.

Her entire body stiffened and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She felt it, and so did he, as she fell over the very steep cliff. Her entire body seemed to suddenly roll with a tremor and her jaw went slack, her throat tightened and gleamed as they caught light. He swallowed the sound of her cries and cupped her tightly. She shuddered, shook, and trembled against him with dim lights flickering behind her eyelids. Figuratively at least. But the pleasure she knew could not be described in any other way. She released a soft cry against him when her hips jerked once against his hand, sensitive as the feeling washed over her and settled like a mist, the tornado had gone out.

He felt her tongue weakly skating against his upper lip, tasting him devilishly as her angelic frame quivered beneath his demonic body. Her eyes tightened as one last tremor rocked through her lightly.

"Breathe," he murmured as she struggled for breath.

He threw himself to the side and shut his eyes as Christine lay beside him. He would get no pleasure tonight, he knew that. But he did not care about that. Just having her beside him was enough ecstasy to keep him for the night.

Erik's arms wound around her waist and he pulled her tightly against his chest. She rolled until she had her face pressed against his collarbone. When she shivered he wrapped the bed sheet around both of their bodies. Erik, despite all of his control, could not help but touch her lower back. He loved the smoothness of her flesh, it was so unlike his. He had never known skin could be so smooth.

"That was magnificent Erik," she whispered, a lazy smile was working its way up to her face "and yet that was nothing like what Jessica had described."

He smirked at her short breath, "what she had described would feel much better. But there are many ways for a man and a woman to experience pleasure without having intercourse Christine."

She frowned sleepily, shyly, "you did not get any pleasure."

"It was a pleasure watching you. That is enough for me Christine-

"No," she shook her head stubbornly and when she made a move to sit up he tightened his arms about her, not ready to let her free yet. The warmth of her frame was providing immeasurable peace to him, "Erik I want to be joined as one with you."

He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head, "Christine my body is not like yours. I am scarred and hideous. I am not beautiful."

"I do not care for that," she murmured and pressed her lips to his jaw, he smiled slightly, he had never felt so content, "please let me see you. You are mine Erik."

"Yes Christine…"

"When can we be together?" She asked softly. Hoping he did not hear the eagerness in her tone.

He did hear it, and it made him more confident than words could ever illustrate, "two days Christine. I must prepare certain things to ensure that you do not have a child. Give me two days and I promise that we will be one." _What am I saying?_

Christine nodded sleepily and shut her eyes, "this will be a long two days…"

He winced at the throbbing against his leg, "it certainly will be."

* * *

**:ooo Did you all expect I'd wait till 45? Nope, hahaha!**

**REVIEW? :)** **Pretty please? You know you wanna'**


	45. Silence

**Chapter XLV**

Raoul sat at the dinner table silently. It had never occurred to him to listen to the silence. Partially because he never thought to hear anything interesting in it, after all, it was silence. But after enduring days and days of listening to his mother tell him that she was right about the girl after all, and listening to his father demand that he send for Carlotta, the silence was suddenly enthralling, and _peaceful_.

She had left him, and with her she had taken all hopes of happiness. She simply did not care for him, and all that he had done for her. He offered her the life she deserved, the life that any woman of this society would hope for.

He smirked down at his food, _but that's just it isn't it. Christine is not a part of _this _society. She is a creature all of her own, one of passion and talent. A bird whose wings I am trying to clip. _

The ring which she had so coldly discarded in her absence burned his pocket. It was a miracle to him that he hadn't crushed it to pieces by now, or thrown it in the fire. But there was something in him that wouldn't allow that behavior. He had tried and yet found himself unable to simply let go of it. He wanted to please her. He wanted to learn what it was that she wanted, no matter how long it took.

She wanted that mad man. That creature was all she knew. But how could she want something like that. Something so horrible and vile. Did she not care at all for the fact that he was a murderer? Was she so in love that she was willing to overlook that?

_She is much too naïve, that is it, _he reasoned and pushed the peas around the beautiful plate, _she is willing to overlook things of such importance, and all in the name of love. What a beautiful creature. _

"ENOUGH!"

Raoul looked up with shock at his father who sat across the table with his back to the exit. Raoul's mother jumped with fright and so did Jessica, Philippe raised a brow.

"I am sick and tired of watching you wallow in misery after that damnable girl," Monsieur de Chagny glared at his young son with eyes so intense that Raoul's mother worried he would make the whites of his eyes pop red from exerting such force.

"Christine is not just a girl," Raoul retorted, "She is exactly what I want. I have heard enough of your laments over my choice in women and it grows redundant," Monsieur de Chagny's eyes bulged, "I am growing weary of it."

"Do you hear how he speaks to me?" He turned to his wife who was staring at her son with pleading eyes, begging him to just let the matter cease where it was, "this is the son you've raised."

"Yes," Raoul glared, "and that is because you have never been here. She had to raise Philippe and I on her own, perhaps it is because of mother that my taste in women is so different from your own. And do not stand there and pretend that you did not fall in love with my mother at one point in time for the same reasons I fell in love with Christine."

"Listen to me now boy," his father's mustache twitched with rage, "I am still your senior, and if you wish to speak to me in that tone then so be it. But understand one thing right now. You are not the man of his house, not yet, and if you wish to be then you will obey my every command. Are we understood?"

"Certainly father," Raoul smiled pleasantly and stood, Philippe stared at him with shock and confusion. he had never seen Raoul in such a state of annoyance and anger and strange calm, "I understand perfectly. I must leave this home or forever wallow in your dreadful company-

"Sit down!" His father bellowed and came to a stand, slamming his fist down on the table, "you are a dreadful miserable boy! She does not want you! She does not want to be a part of what you offer, so then let her sully herself around like the Opera girl she is! My son deserves better than that miserable chit."

"Stop this," the regal woman to the right of her husband demanded in a sharp and quiet hiss, trying to preserve her lady like air but losing her composure very quickly, it was practically withering around her, "we will not fight in front of the help. Do you wish there to be rumors of us?"

"Let there be rumors mother," Raoul glared sharply, "the rumors are endless. Let 's not pretend that we do not know all the filthy rumors that linger about our father, your most loving husband," he waved a hand towards his father. Raoul could see the redness turning almost purple on his father's face but he continued, ignoring the harsh whispers from Philippe who warned him to stop now, and not caring for the hurt on his mother's face, "if they say that the de Chagny's have been spatting about such a 'lowly girl' then this shall be the best 'rumor' that has been started about our family affairs yet!"

"How dare you," his father started marching around the table. Philippe stood and placed a hand on his father's chest, only to be promptly shoved out of the way with such a force that his hip connected violently with the table. Jessica gave a yelp as her husband clutched a chair for stability.

Monsieur de Chagny grabbed his younger son by the collar and shoved him up against the nearest wall. The back of Raoul's head collided with the framing of the large painting but he ignored the stinging sensation as his father violently spat words at him.

"Do you think that your little whore cares about you?"

"I know she does not," Raoul responded coldly, "I am very aware of that fact father."

"Then allow yourself the dignity of a wife that deserves you and ignore that stupid brat Christine Daae. That weak –

"Release him!" Miss de Chagny glared at her husband, placing a strong hand on his shoulder. Raoul looked at her with shock as fire played within the depths of her eyes, a fire like he had not ever seen, "release him this instant or I swear to you I will harm you beyond imagination. Let go of my son."

His father look to his wife with a stunned and angry stare. But he could see that old fire that he thought had long died out playing there and new that she meant everything she said. With a huff he stretched his fingers out and released Raoul who was staring at the regal woman with confusion and surprise.

"Philippe are you alright?" Jessica murmured behind them as she touched Philippe's bruised hip. He winced as she helped him to his feet.

"Get out of my home," Miss de Chagny glared at her husband, "return when you have calmed."

"I am the man of this house, you do not speak to me that way!" He roared down at her, Raoul glared viciously and his mother narrowed her eyes at her husband, challenging him.

"Will you make me repeat myself William?" She addressed him with disdain, "you disgust me. Get out of my sight."

The man locked his jaw, fighting the impulse to slap her until she could not stand. He straightened his posture and wordlessly left his sons and his wife, and Jessica, alone. They all heard the sound of the door slamming shut.

"Jessica," she turned to her son who was clutching his hip, "contact someone and tell them to fetch the Persian, he will have something to ease the pain. Also, take my son to his room and ensure that he lays down."

Jessica nodded quietly and guided her husband towards the stairs, leaving Raoul alone with his mother whose calm was astounding.

"And you," she turned to him with a steely look in her eye, "I have never been so embarrassed by you. Do you think that I do not know the things that they say about your father? About the things he does when he tries to make me believe that he is working? I know it all Raoul, and I do not appreciate your attempts at embarrassing him. Or do you forget that he is _my_ husband? That everything you say implicates _me_ worse?"

"Mother-

"Every time you say something such as, he is sleeping with other women, what do you think that says about me? They say that I do not take care of my husband, that he is looking for the love of other women because I am cold and I am unforgiving of his past transgressions. I am the victim of all of his stupidities! And you stand here and throw it into the air with no regard for me?"

Raoul stood silent. Unsure of what to say. The truth was that he never thought about it like that. But the more he thought about it the more certain he was that she was right, he knew that people were unkind to his mother. But he never meant to disrespect her in such a manner. He never knew that he could do so by saying the things he said.

"I beg your forgiveness," he whispered quietly, tying his fingers behind his back, "I did not think of things in such a manner. It was my own fault."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes in a tired fashion, "leave me now Raoul. Go and check on your brother, see to it that when the Persian doctor arrives that he finds Philippe's chambers."

Raoul nodded and left the dining room.

Very slowly Miss de Chagny sank down to the nearest chair and clapped her hands over her eyes. Very quietly, so that no one might hear her she began to sob for her lost son and her distant husband.

**…**

It was a long time before Nadir was at the door. He had received the letter and did not know what to really make of it. He was almost certain that it was a trick by the young vicomte. He speculated that Raoul de Chagny was simply seeking a way to get information about Christine's whereabouts out of him.

When he approached the door he knocked quietly, and very hesitantly. As always everything around the de Chagny home held an impeccable air about it. It was impossible to ignore. It felt as if touching the door might rub some of the superficiality off of it.

The door opened to reveal Raoul de Chagny. Nadir almost gaped. He looked like an absolute mess. His cravat was not in place, his eyes were tired looking, and his normally perfectly styled hair was in a strange disarray. It reminded him of Erik when he was younger. He looked haggard.

"Good afternoon Nadir, please come inside," Raoul smiled with little enthusiasm.

Nadir silently stepped within the home and followed Raoul up the stairs.

"My brother has a pain in his side, we want to ensure that there is nothing else very wrong with him and hope that you may provide him with something to ease the bruise there, it has begun to swell up," Raoul explained as they went up the stairs, "as you probably know Christine is not here. I suspect she has run off with the Phantom."

Nadir locked his jaw to prevent himself from choking out something that might give him way, he simply decided to look confused. Raoul did not bother meeting his gaze, he knew that the Persian man would feign confusion.

"She left with nothing. She left her gowns and the engagement ring I gave her on the floor. But do not fret Nadir, I am not going to hunt her down. I know that eventually I will encounter her again, after all," he tossed him a glance, "her passion for music will bring her to the stage again. She cannot hide forever."

"Has it occurred to you that perhaps Miss Daae is not hiding?" Nadir made a poor attempt to hide the edge in his tone.

"She is most certainly hiding." Raoul left it at that, providing no explanation for why he believed such a thing.

Nadir watched Raoul cautiously as the man led him to where his brother lay. It was a very strange thing, to Nadir, that Raoul de Chagny did not go to the Opera house yet and tear it down. And he hoped that Erik would be back soon. He did not know how much longer he could go on taking care of the man in the depths.

**…**

When he finished in the de Chagny home Nadir headed to his more modest house and changed his clothing into something more casual. It seemed to him that ever since Erik and Christine abandoned the home that it was a haven for dust and grime. It never appeared that way to him when they were there. But perhaps he had simply never paid attention to it.

When he got to the opera house he snuck in through the side and began descending down the tunnels. It took him a total of five minutes to get down to where Jonathan was. And upon pushing open the door the young man began whimpering and crying. When he spotted Nadir's face lit up by the lantern he calmed instantly and began trying to speak around the fabric that muted him. The constant silence was driving the man mad, Nadir was certain of it.

He approached Jonathan and before removing the fabric he examined his wounds. Nadir had been tending to them and as much as he tried they seemed to not be healing as well as they should. He blamed it on the conditions of the dank lair. But at least they did not look so horrible. Puss still oozed out of some of the cuts on his chest, and Nadir had been forced to pull maggots out from the welts on the man's feet, but other than that the man looked better. Not much better, but better.

Finally Nadir removed the fabric.

"W-water, please Sir, give me water," Jonathan begged quietly from where he sat. Looking at Nadir with utter hopelessness. Nadir nodded and told him he would return in a moment. He went to the lake and scooped up a bit of water with a cup he had brought with him. Jonathan always pleaded for the same exact thing. And as murky as the water was it was the most the man deserved, at least that's what Nadir thought.

When he returned to Jonathan the man's eyes locked in with the cup and he began craning his neck forward as if that might make it reach his mouth faster. Nadir ordered him to tilt his head back slightly and poured the water into his mouth. Jonathan relished at the taste and when Nadir finally pulled it away so that he might not drown himself in it – he began speaking.

"Will the man return?" Jonathan asked with a croak, it seemed that it was stuck in that perpetual state, "will you care for me until I die of madness or my infected wounds."

"I will do everything in my power to ensure that you do not die under my watch. My God would not forgive me for such a thing," Nadir tried to avoid talking to the man. He knew of the minds ways, if he spoke to him enough he would begin to pity him and forget what it was that he planned to do to Christine. "_He_ will return to you in time, it may not be today or tomorrow but he will return. I will not hide that he intends to kill you."

Jonathan nodded with fear, "I understand. I will not fight it. I have lived in this state for far too long. I think death would be a welcomed changed from what this has been. I can no longer feel my hands."

Nadir winced. He had caught sight of his hands, they were not in a normal condition. They were almost strangled off by the tight knots Erik had devised around his wrists which forced Nadir to loosen them, and when he did Jonathan cried and cried at the pain of the blood rushing to his fingers.

"Will you check my wounds again?"

"No," Nadir shook his head, "when Erik returns he will be enraged to see that I have paid mind to the injuries he has taken so much care to inflict upon you. I simply brought you back from the verge of death but I do not intend to save you from it. As much as I might wish to hand you over to the proper authorities I know that they will let you free, and then you will simply do this to another female at some point in time," Nadir sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. He could feel the inner conflict of his religion stirring up. It plagued him constantly. He held a bit of contempt for Erik because of this. He no longer knew if he could consider himself a part of his religion. It seemed as if though Erik found a way to break everyone's faith, including his own.

"So then you do not know when it is that the madman will return?" Jonathan whispered out, noticing the clear frustration upon Nadir's face.

"I do not know, but as I've told you. Expect him any day."

"I await him anxiously," Jonathan murmured, his crazed eyes were tired, "if you come into contact with him tell him to hurry."

**…**

Erik watched Christine eyeball the cotton root bark. She looked at it like if it might explode into bits in front of her. She had been doing this for the past half-minute. He tried to hide the smile threatening to break to the surface as she examined it.

"It will not harm you Christine."

"I am very aware of that," she responded a bit sharply and continued staring at it, "what will it taste like?"

"I do not know," Erik shrugged, "what you and I must take to prevent the chances of us having a child are quite different. I do not imagine that it will be pleasant but it is a necessary precaution. Would you like me to brew it with the tea? Perhaps that would make it less uncomfortable for you."

"Yes… yes I think that would be good."

Erik nodded and began making the tea and brewing the root bark with it, locked in his thoughts. For the past day he had been eating papaya seeds. He had overheard that it prevented men from impregnating women for centuries. He had never paid much mind to it as he never believed that that was even a distant possibility in his life. But now here he was, tomorrow at some point he would be joined with her as a man.

The thought made him shudder.

He could only imagine what she looked like. He had seen her in the throes of passion. And even now it seemed like it was all a fantasy. How had things happened so quickly? He was kissing her at one moment and then in the next he was touching her much too intimately. And she had allowed him to do so! But did it matter that they did that so quickly?

_Certainly not, _he rationalized, _I have wanted Christine for a long time, and I believe that she has wanted me as well. We are adults, we have the responsibility of our own choices, and we have both decided that this is what we want. The timing shouldn't matter in the least. _

From where she sat Christine allowed her eye to linger over Erik's back and down his legs. She imagined that he was scarred, he had told her so himself. But she knew that there was an insufferable beauty beneath all that clothing. His legs were long and powerful looking, and his waist was perfectly narrow, his shoulders were not extremely broad, but strong in appearance.

She shivered and bit her lip. She still could not believe the words that had escaped her the night before. She had demanded that he _take_ her, and while he did not, he gave her something that was much gentler and stranger than what Jessica had described. And she had loved it. A low breath escaped Christine and she looked down at her clenched hands.

The prospects of tomorrow excited her and made her tingle all over. It made her clench her thighs tightly and shift uncomfortably. It would be a night to remember for the rest of her life. And she had no doubt in her mind that it was going to be spectacular.

"In four days we must return back to the Opera House. I will stay with Nadir until night falls and you must wait for Nadir to go get you. I have a few matters to attend to and you must audition for Il Muto," Erik told her as the steam rose in his face.

"Alright," Christine smiled, "it will be wonderful to return to the Opera House. I hope that the managers are not angry for my absence."

"They may very well be but they would not dare express such a thing. Do not worry." Erik told her confidently.

He had already begun practicing the lines with her. Luckily Christine could grasp them quickly enough. In two days she would have had most of the play memorized by heart. And when he took her to the Opera House she would audition and get the part. He knew she would.

He decided quickly that on the night of her performance he would kill Jonathan. Perhaps in the intermission. It would be swift and quick, and then he would return to finish watching the show.

"Erik," Christine smiled form where she sat, "I love you."

He raised a brow and turned to stare at her, she looked absolutely perfect, "I love you," he responded, _and tomorrow you will see just how much. _

* * *

**:O You know whats next :)**

**By the way - just telling you guys now. We are almost approaching the end of the story, I finally decided how I want to end it, I think the ending is going to literally two chapters as I do not want to overwhelm by throwing everything in at once. I think it might go up to 51 Chapters but I will have to see how it all plays out. :) AND THANK YOU TO FANTOMPHAN33 for providing me with the insight about old 'contraceptive methods'. I do not know that these things work, but for the sake of the story THEY DO. don't expect any babies. **

**Review darlings! :)**


	46. Under the Rose

**Chapter XLVI**

Nadir stared at Jonathan blankly, the boy was starting to speak with more clarity. And while Nadir knew that there was no reason at all for him to feel pleased to see that the man was feeling better – there was an undeniable pleasure at knowing that he had healed him. Even if just slightly.

"What made you target Christine?" Nadir asked quietly, leaning against the doorway and raising a brow at the man who sat in the center of the dimly lit room, "while I do not condone your behavior it is still clear to me that there were other singers who you might've gone after. But you chose her, was it her fame? Did you believe that she had a fortune?"

"We had heard the rumors about her," Jonathan stated, raising his blue eyes slightly, "there was talk in the city of her beauty, of her talent. There were rumors that men were killing just to see her. She was hardly seen outside of the opera house."

"I do not understand."

"We, my partner and I," Jonathan confessed honestly, "planned to travel with her so that we might not be caught. We wanted to make ourselves rich off of her talent."

"Did you at no point take her own feelings into consideration?"

"The prospects that I might be wealthy sealed out any lingering conscience I had. Truly I did not want to harm her-

"That is difficult to believe," Nadir stated firmly, "after all you drugged her and then beat her into submission. Then you planned to have men rape her unconscious body."

Jonathan winced and nodded, "yes… but she wouldn't be hurt. She would not remember. And she enjoyed the opiate. She was supposed to not fight. I would never have hit her if she had not put up such a fight."

"No, of course not," Nadir glared, "you would have only used her for your own conveniences. And did you think that the wealth would last forever? You would not have spent the money to train her, her voice would have been ultimately lost under no proper training."

Jonathan lowered his gaze, "I suppose I did not think of that."

Nadir shook his head, "and now you see reason. It is too bad that her tutor shall put an end to you for a cause that was always lost."

**…**

Erik sat at his piano playing a light tune. He did not know exactly what it was, he only knew that he needed to still his chaotic thoughts. Tonight he would have her. Very soon in fact. He could feel the stirring in his core at the thought of her upstairs.

She knew that tonight was the night. He had heard her doing things upstairs, he was not certain of what exactly but she was doing _something_. But most of all she was waiting for him. _A woman waits for me, _Erik shook his head. A few years ago he would never have thought that any woman ever would. And now there was a woman that yearned for him. But more importantly that woman was Christine…

Her soft body demanded his attention, _she_ demanded his attention, and he was too in love, and too much of _himself_ to deny her.

Thoughts of her had been swirling in his head all day. It was as if she were unconsciously making him want her more than he already did.

She would walk past him, and then his eyes would shoot to where the gown hid her legs, roam up to the soft curve of her waist and then stop on her breasts. He'd let his gaze linger, and then he'd furiously return to composing. But by then his hands would be shaking. He gave that up eventually, writing was impossible. So he decided to simply play. And here he had been ever since.

And what would she think when she saw the endless scars? Erik shuddered at the thought of the pity that would grace her eyes. He knew it would, it had to. She was much too kind to simply look at them and think nothing.

And what would _her_ body look like? The thought made him stir and he rested his head down on the top of the piano. What would her skin feel like beneath his hands? And would he be able to give her pleasure? It had been so long since he had taken pleasure from a woman. And he wasn't sure that his cold and uncaring methods would keep him in check. He would lose control. It had been so long…

And she was so willing to give him her supple body, and he wanted nothing more then for her to have him.

"Damn," he stood from the piano and began walking up the stairs. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight. Every step was carefully measured. He did not want to hurry himself into the room, if he did he would hurry everything else. Instead he took small measured steps, thinking everything through. He had to keep himself under control, knowing that it would be impossible. This was not a prostitute on the street whose pleasure he did not care about. This was Christine. _But that's just it, was it not? It is Christine, control and Christine do not exist on the same planes of reality when it comes to things like this, _he thought with a twist of his mouth.

In the room Christine could hear Erik's approach up the stairs. She looked down at herself and bit her lip, would he not be pleased with what she was wearing? She hoped he would be. She had styled her hair perfectly for this and had taken care to look her absolute best. She even did the bed, although she was certain that these things would matter very little.

She looked around the room once more. She had lit it with candles, knowing how sensitive Erik was when it came to being seen, but knowing that she needed to see him nonetheless. The candles provided sufficient light and darkness.

The door opened behind Christine and she turned with trepidation.

**…**

Erik stared at her with his eyes wide and shocked. _What in the world is she wearing? _

"Do I…" Christine blushed under his wide stare, "do I look appropriate?"

Erik ran his eyes up and down her figure, once, twice, three times and began a slowly walk towards her. She trembled the nearer he came.

She wore long nightgown, blue in color with lace patterns covering the sheer material. And against the glow of the candles her normally pale skin looked healthy and radiant as ever. Her hair was smoothed out, free of its tangles. The simplistic room only made her look more divine.

When Erik stopped in front of her he reached out hesitantly and touched her delicate skin, noticing the slight shiver that went through her, he pulled her in close and touched his lips to her ear, "you look exquisite."

Christine's limbs tightened with anticipation. Erik's lips were at her ear, trailing down the length of her neck and to her shoulder. She wanted to touch him, her fingers reached out steadily and she brought her hand to his shoulders and began moving down to the buttons of his shirt. One by one she fumbled and watched him pull back to stare at her. She kept her eyes locked on what she was doing, shakily unbuttoning.

"Christine," he muttered, "my body-

"Shh," she crushed his lips to her own and shivered as her knuckles felt skin. Erik's tongue snaked out and ran over her bottom lip lustily, when she trembled his hands went to her head, holding her in place as his tongue battled for entrance into her mouth. Christine relented with a soft sigh, allowing her hands to run over his now bare chest. He shivered wickedly as her fingers ran over the hills and valleys of his scars.

"Erik, please, undress me," she begged quietly against his mouth. Heat was pooling horribly between her legs and she found herself trembling from anticipation. She pressed herself tightly to the length of his body. A hard breath escaped him at the feel of her pressing against the bulge at the front of his pants, "undress me…"

Hurriedly Erik pulled away from her, his amber eyes locked on the offending material that blocked her from his view.

"Turn around," he stated in a commanding voice, she shivered and did as he asked. Very slowly Erik began bunching up the material from her hips, touching at her throat with his lips and biting her ear lobe. When her head fell back on his shoulder and her entire body seemed to relax and tense at once he dared to run his hands up her now bare thighs. Her skin was hot underneath his palms.

"Oh God," she licked her dry lips and pressed herself tighter to him, when she heard his breath catch she knew she did something right.

"I need you," he rasped quietly and teasingly avoided touching her dripping center, very aware of the fact that she had not put on any undergarments.

He stopped when she whimpered his name and quickly he drew the dress up over her head and threw the offending material away from her.

Christine shut her eyes tightly and flushed in color as Erik slowly turned her around and drank her in.

Christine had a taut stomach from years of ballet. And her breasts were small stood proudly on her body. Her thighs were lean and femininely smooth. Her collarbone drew his attention the most, the way it caught the light and the shadows. His fingers twitched to run his fingers along her throat.

She was most certainly the most exquisite thing he had ever seen, and would ever see. He was certain of it. Curiously he reached out and touched her small breasts, her breath caught and her eyes opened, his stare was locked and focused in on her. Erik ran his thumb slowly over her nipple and fought back a grin when she released a quiet breath. He did it again, meeting her eyes as her nipples pebbled under his thumb, then he drew closer, taking it between his fingers and lightly squeezing and rolling it, with his other arm he brought her close and spoke.

"What are you feeling Christine?"

"W-warmth," she explained, lightly rocking her hips against his leg, she needed friction between her thighs, she was pulsing and aching.

"Yes, your body knows it wants me," he pulled back and released her, taking in her slight form and her narrow waist, her lean thighs and the cut hair that covered her mound, then he raised his eyes back up to her, noticing that she was not looking at his face if not at his chest.

Christine could see the long scars, colored ivory against his white skin, but she had never seen such a fine creature in all her life. She absolutely adored the size of his shoulders, and his captivating chest. When she ran her eyes lower she noticed hair below his belly button and taut veins peeking out just above the belt of his pants before disappearing beneath them. Below that there was a tenting that she was curious about.

Erik tried not to shudder under her gaze.

"You are perfect," she forced out through her tight throat, "how could you ever think otherwise?" he opened his mouth but did not know how to respond to her, he remained silent and watched her awkwardly step forward. Her lips met his once again and he was almost delighted enough to smile and cry, but he suddenly felt her hand at his erection, feeling, groping.

"Dear G—Christine," he choked out as her hands moved up and down the length of him through the cloth. She drew back but he grabbed her hand quickly and pressed it against the throbbing organ. Shutting his eyes and lowering his forehead to her shoulder weakly, "do not stop. Do not dare stop."

Biting her lip with a smile Christine used her other hand to fumble and take off his belt and then unbutton his pants. Erik breathed hard in her ear and she dipped her hand under the belt, kissing his jaw softly and moving her fingers through the heat and the coarse hair there until she found what she was looking for.

Erik choked something unintelligible out and Christine stroked her hand up and down his length, feeling him give slight thrust into her hand. Veins throbbed hot and strong beneath her palm.

"Is this alright?" She whispered unsurely.

"Yes, yes," he whispered feverishly, "but I must have you, I must."

Erik pulled her hand away and quickly removed himself of his last articles of clothing. She observed the hair that covered his legs, and then lessened at his thighs. He was perfect to her. Scars peppered his skin in strange patterns from his hips to his collarbone. She lowered her gaze below his stomach and tilted her head to the side slightly.

How was that going to fit in her body?

"Oh come now," he rolled his eyes slightly, as she stared at him with an apprehensive gaze, "I am not unnaturally large."

"I am however rather small … that is not going to fit," she stuttered awkwardly.

Erik smiled darkly and began walking towards her. She backed up and then ended up against the wall. Once there Erik loomed over her and touched his lips to her ear, sucking at her earlobe and placing on hand on her hip, "it will fit. Come my love," he quickly picked her up, ignoring her cry of shock and moving her to the bed. She blushed as he lay her down and carefully moved up her body. The mask gleamed.

"Erik," she whined and reached for the mask, only to have both her wrist pinned to the bed in response.

"No, tonight let me have this." His eyes were serious and longing, she nodded and opened her thighs, the heat there was torturous. Carefully Erik released her wrists and wound his fingers into her hair. He brought his face down to her own and kissed her, but this time it was different.

This kiss was not slow, it was not romantic, it was quick and urgent and needing. Christine returned it with as much passion and ran her fingers along his side until she managed to wedge it in between them. Quickly she found his hardened member and began to touch him again. Aware of the way his entire body stiffened and his breath quickened.

"Christine," he purred and rocked his hips to her strokes, she bit his lip in imitation of what he did to her ear and was rewarded with a groan, "I need you now," Erik stated and pulled up and away from her. Christine followed him up and nervously sat in front of him.

Erik's eyes were darker to her now. He did not see skin, he saw flesh, her lips were not pink and soft but red and swollen – beckoning him. Where her eyes has been filled her lust he saw fiery, needing, orbs of blue.

He reached for her knees and kissed her hard on the mouth, gently parting them open and sliding his left hand down the inside of her thigh. She moaned and he pushed her head down to the pillow with pressure on her lips. When his fingers parted the folds of her body Christine shivered, but when he dared to dip a finger carefully within her she moaned loudly and threw her head back.

"You're coated in need," he purred into her ear, not caring for the way she blushed and kissing her cheek lovingly, "you want me…"

"Yes, God Erik yes…"

He stroked his finger in and out of her, watching her through the corner of his eyes as his lips lovingly caressed the flesh of her cheek. He couldn't wait much longer, "are you certain you want this Christine? It will be... painful." He winced.

She turned her head to him with confidence in her eyes and daringly licked his bottom him, he shut his eyes and shuddered, "yes."

Erik moved his finger out of her and began to stroke himself, using her dripping core as lubricant and balancing himself above her with his right hand beside her head. Christine stared up at him longingly. Urging him with her pants and the rise and fall of her chest to take her. The throbbing at her mound ached so badly, she moved a hand down there and ran a finger just the way he had two days before. Shuddering when she contacted the hood that he had so expertly manipulated her body with. Erik watched her explore herself and shut her eyes with pleasure before he flattened his body to her and captured her throat with his lips. Everything in him was burning. His pores felt like a thousand candles were being held to each one.

Erik positioned himself just outside of her opening and ran the head of himself against the length of her heat. She shuddered and he buried his mouth against her throat to silence whatever sound he made.

She felt unbelievable.

"Now Erik," she shivered and raised her hips slightly.

He nodded and shut his eyes as he began pushing himself slowly into her..

Christine's chest expanded with air as he filled up a cavity that she had never known to feel empty. Her fingers tightened around his waist and suddenly he jerked his hips forward, moving about an inch inside, and a spasm of pain rang through her, she whimpered and blinked back the sting of tears.

"Damn it," Erik forced out through his clenched teeth, "Christine?" He drew up a bit but remained poised inside of her, feeling her throat with his lips as she turned her face from him and blinked through the pain. He knew that it would happen, and as unfair as it was he knew that it would be over soon, "breathe my love, just breathe," he tried to soothe her gently and forced himself to remain very still. But she was tense and locking all her muscles, thus she was gripping him more tightly. Unknowingly beckoning his already raging body to move within her.

About half of a minute passed and he began to feel her limbs loosening, but he dared not move. A few more seconds passed and then a minute, one of pure torture in which he had hardened and lengthened inside of her.

Slowly he withdrew himself, leaning up away from her body and holding himself up on his fist. Christine shuddered at the feel of him sliding inside of her, it was the strangest feeling of suddenly being hollow. And then very slowly he pushed back in. She drew in a deep breath as he resumed to do this. His face looked like if it were pained, and then he captured her lips with her own, speeding up the movements of his hips too.

"It's starting to feel… mhm," she moaned around his mouth as a strange sensation of dull jolts of the most peculiar nature bloomed along the walls that he slid on. She drew her legs up instinctively and wrapped them around his thighs. Her throat tightened as his pupils dilated. His lids fell over his eyes slightly and he began panting, moving his hips with more precision within her.

"Christine," he groaned her name out into her ear and thrust deeply into her body. She winced slightly but a new wave of pleasure broke through her, it bloomed like a thousand little roses, and each petals was lined with nerves of pleasure along the walls of her body. And each stroke ignited them, opened them more, and more.

"Please, do that again," she begged, he obliged and drew away from her only to push deeply into her body. She gave a hoarse choke and moaned his name, shutting her eyes and letting him do it again and again.

Erik's breath was coming in shortly. Every muscle in his body was straining against his flesh, and he could feel the waves of pleasure straining towards him, he could feel it everywhere with every inch of his being. He moved his hips hard against her, moaning huskily against her ear, praying that he wasn't saying something embarrassing, but not caring enough to stop himself. He couldn't hear anything except her panting in his ear. Her sudden pleas.

"Please, Erik... yes… yes… _Ange_…"

He responded with a grunt and a hard jerk into her.

She pleaded with him as she throbbed and tightened around him. Pressure mounted just below her belly, expanding and expanding to an unknown level. She knew there was something she wanted, something beautiful and vibrant and only he could give it to her. She cried out when he reached out and pulled her nipple tightly, it felt so good and shot down right to where he was moving in her.

Again and again he thrust into her, but his thrusting melted without warning into pounds. He could feel the bed rocking with his movements. And Christine's nails digging into his back. And her tongue on his and her body clenching around him, threatening to asphyxiate him from the groin up if he continued his movements. But he had to continue. He wouldn't be able to stop. Everything was her!

"Christine, Christine," he moaned her name and fisted his fingers into her hair and locked her hips down to the mattress with the other, she moaned and strained against his hand. Her neck stretched out before him, perfectly sculpted unlike every inch of him. He used the tip of his tongue to run it up to her jaw, she moaned for him and he rewarded her with a hard jerk of his body.

"Erik… yes," she purred.

"I can't—" he choked on air as his thrusts became more violent, more forceful, more powerful. Every stroke into her body quickened in succession and he hardly pulled out of her, he just pushed in and in, and in, straining to reach some unimaginable depth. Christine groaned under him and he shut his eyes as every muscle in his body broke from the tension.

Indescribable colors burst from behind his eyelids, and a pressure like he had never known before mounted in his stomach and exploded against his will.

"Christine…." He growled over and over as he froze deep within her and held still. He could feel himself spilling into her body, his toes curled and his hand clenched into her hair. He bared his teeth and clenched his jaw, groaning and trembling as his hips jerked forward involuntarily, seeking to spill every ounce of himself into her beautiful being.

"Erik," she cooed, and held him as he trembled and collapsed on her, she struggled to breathe and could feel her body revolting against the fact that he had stilled within her. She knew something was not satisfied within her. She was left wanting, and nothing like the ending she had reached before had happened now. Only a mounting pleasure that had no resolution.

He pulled out from within her and collapsed to the side. Struggling to breathe and shutting his eyes as he tried to regain composure.

"Erik," she moaned and rested her head on his shoulder. She struggled to breathe and clenched her thighs tightly and involuntarily.

"Christine," he breathed and opened his eyes. He looked down at her and noticed the needing look in her gaze, "Christine?"

"Was that all?" She asked with soft pants. He shut his eyes, his cheeks reddened, he was mortified.

Erik sat up and gave her his back, dropping his face into his eyes and cursing himself over and over, muttering unintelligible things under his breath. He had failed.

"Erik?" Christine sat up and reached out to him, when he tensed against her hand she drew her hand away, "what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" he asked with a soft breath, looking back at her darkly, "what's wrong is that I have failed you."

"Erik... that was beautiful what are you-

"You were supposed to feel what I felt," he glared and then turned his face away from her, "I failed you. You did not…" he did not know how to phrase it.

She understood what he meant, she still felt it in her body. Biting her lip anxiously Christine drew closer to him, "it was my first time Erik... we can try again, can we not? We will be better next time."

"_I_ will be better next time," he corrected.

Christine bit her lip and glared at her thighs, "why do you have to do this?"

Now Erik looked up at her, confused, "what?"

"It was a beautiful thing and you have to try and taint its beauty-

"Taint its beauty?-

"By declaring yourself imperfect," her eyes hardened, "it was wonderful Erik! I loved it! Can you not just accept that and allow yourself to be happy for once?"

Erik did not reply, he tightened his jaw and watched her come to a stand and then approach him. He kept his eyes on hers, but every now and then they'd flicker to her small breasts, when she stopped between his legs and drew his face up the world seemed to stop.

"It was perfect Erik," her eyes narrowed dangerously, "do not ruin this for us."

He nodded, silently, slightly relieved. He embraced her and drew her onto the bed. She smiled and pressed herself against him as he pulled the covers over them both, still a bit regretful.

"Besides," she shrugged and shut her eyes, smiling at the loving press of his lips just at the back of her shoulders, "practice means perfection."

Erik chuckled darkly and held her close, "I look forward to all of those practice sessions then."

* * *

**What! Christine didn't have the mindblowing first time? Christine didn't have an orgasm? Why yes my dears, thats exactly what happened. :O **

**So! A HUGE THANK YOU TO FANTOMPHAN33 :) Shes my FF buddy, and I have to also thank you all for your awesome reviews. Only thing that keeps me going. **

**So I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I did not want to make it... overwhelmingly romantic like "You're so beautiful" he breathed against her - EVERY TWO SECONDS. I just wanted a hint of romance, but mostly just a realistic interpretation of what I think these two characters (within this story) would be like. Nothing wrong with lots of romance but I am just not that type of writer. Oh well. **

**So! Tell me what you all think! **

**MILLION**** - MAKE AN ACCOUNT YOUR REVIEWS ARE GREAT AND I ALWAYS WANT TO RESPOND BUT I CANT Haha!**

**Also if you all want to read my new Phantom story AUTHOR ALERT me so that when its up you can read it. I am going to start typing it up soon, and i'm not going to release what it's about until this story is at least in it's last two chapters which is quickly approaching...**

**Funfact: This chapter is titled after a song by my favorite by called HIM, the song is Under the Rose.**

**So Author Alert (if you're interested) and Reviewww :) *Hopes they liked it. Sits impatiently waiting***


	47. The Good & The Bad

**Chapter XLVII**

Christine swallowed back the tea Erik had brewed for her with a bit of disgust. It tasted horribly. It made her throat turn to a chamber of torture. Just the action of forcing the thing back was painful. Erik smiled slightly and approached her from behind, stroking her hair, "it is not that foul Christine."

She scowled in response and set the cup down, "I understand it's necessity. But why must all things that are good for us come with such disgusting tastes?"

Erik pondered that for a moment, all too aware of the way she leaned against the counter. Her backside pushed out slightly, "I do not know my love. But, you have finished the vile concoction, you do not have to drink it again until tomorrow."

Christine grinned slyly and all too innocently jutted her hips back against Erik. He steeled against her as her backside pressed to the front of his pants, "and then I must drink it again, and again, and again."

Leaning forward Erik lowered his voice as if someone might hear them from the hundreds of miles he had put between them and everyone else, "I must admit that your teasing ways are having their desired effect. But I must also warn you that your all too innocent flirtations will not go over the way you think they will."

"Oh?" She reached back and touched his thigh, "and why is that?"

Erik smirked and reached around them both until his hand was also at her thigh, the material of her dress made him smile, he knew that she was longing for him to rip it off her body, "because I can play that game much better than you, my dear," slowly his hand went to the side of her throat where he languidly allowed his finger to run up and down the valley of her neck, "or do you forget who I am Christine?"

"Perhaps you must remind me."

_Vixen, _he though at her and removed himself. She turned and smiled beautifully, "we must practice Christine."

"Now?" She approached him and her intention was obvious, but Erik grabbed her wrist to stop her, she became confused.

"I meant _music_, Christine."

"Oh? Oh!" She blushed like a tomato and stuttered, "y-yes. That, alright then, let us do that."

She strode past Erik with embarrassment and he shook his head at her with a smile. She was much too easy to play this game with.

…

Christine's voice soared throughout the house. It seemed that Ayesha enjoyed it because she rested on the vibrating piano as Christine stood beside it, singing her lungs out for Erik who listened with a critical ear.

She sang every note perfectly. It was absolutely breathtaking to him, and when he looked to her, singing to no one and everyone, it occurred to him that Christine truly needed to grace the stage once more. He would not live without allowing her to display her talent.

"Perfect," Erik breathed as he listened to her last note die out. Christine's chest was left to rise and fall almost too teasingly. It drew his eye to her collarbone, her skin beckoned him. A hard urge to kiss her moved through him, and it occurred to Erik that perhaps it was not the right time for such things. It was the middle of the day after all.

"Christine, would you like to walk amongst the fields?"

She nodded excitedly, "I will go get my cloak, the winds are high today."

He nodded and watched her run off.

**…**

In her room Christine grinned like a fool. He had put himself in a trap, and while Christine knew that what she planned to do was slightly wanton, she did not care. She was his, and he was hers. They had given themselves to one another, there was nothing left between the two of them now to hide.

With one last look to the mirror Christine grinned and struggled to compose herself.

Erik had no idea of what was coming to him.

**…**

When Christine came down in her blue cloak Erik was already by the door. She smiled and whispered a soft, "thank you" when he held the door open for her.

Nervously Erik walked behind her. He wanted to touch her hand, or take her by the waist, but he felt as if though that would be too much contact. Would she want that? Surely not, they had been touching the entire night before. And yet his hands could not get enough.

When they left the vicinity of their home and walked down the path Christine began to speak, "Erik, may I ask you something?"

"If you do I must inform you that I may not answer."

She bit her lip, "I wanted to know why it is that you refused to remove your mask last night? We were completely bare to one another, and yet when I went to remove your mask you did not allow me that. Is there a reason behind that? Do you think I will no longer want you?"

He thought about that for a moment, annoyed at the way the wind tossed his hair into the air, "I did not wish to remove my mask precisely because I was exposed. It does not make any sense in words. It only provided me with security. It made me feel less unprotected."

"But why do you need to feel that way around me?" He could hear the slight hurt in her voice. When he looked to her he noticed that she had trailed into the weeds and the grass that reached up to her knees, "am I not a source of comfort for you?"

"You are," he murmured quietly, slowly drifting to her side, "it is just that I must retain a sense of … me. There will be a time when I will allow you to look upon my face without ever needing to cover it unless we are in the presence of company. But Christine," she stopped walking and turned to face him, "I am not the man that deserves you. I am aware of that. But I am selfish enough to keep you to me. I am asking for your patience. I know that you wish to see me roam our home without this," he waved a hand to his mask, her eyes followed it, taking in the white against his otherwise handsome face, "but that is not going to happen for a long time."

She nodded, accepting this, "I understand Erik."

A flood of relief made his limbs slack slightly, he stepped forward and embraced her carefully, no longer worrying as he did earlier, "thank you my love."

"You're welcome, Ange," her lips were at his shoulder. She pressed a soft kiss there and then moved her head back slightly. Her eyes were on his mouth, and Erik smiled only slightly. It seemed to him that something overwhelmingly passionate had awoken in Christine.

Leaning down Erik pressed a gentle kiss upon her mouth, when he moved his head back however she leaned forward and deepened the kiss.

"Christine," he scowled her poorly, still kissing her and allowing her tongue to skate against his lips, he released something akin to a whimper when she pressed her body to him. His hands were at her neck, his thumbs under her jaw, keeping the upward tilt of her face.

"Erik, I want you," she rasped quietly, lovingly pressing her lips to his bottom lip and his stubborn chin. His eyes closed from delight, "now."

Christine knowingly tied her fingers into the back of his hair, careful to not dislodge the mask as she felt the band that held it to his face there. Very carefully she managed to kiss him and somehow bring him down to the ground until he hovered over her frame. A chill went through her when the wind stirred, even hidden by the weeds and the grass she could feel it.

"Here Christine?" he rasped into her jaw. Something thrilled him about this, to have her in the open. In view of no one and of everyone. He, who had been shunned, loving someone as beautiful and as forbidden as her in the daylight. He hardened at the thought and silently begged her to not stop him.

"Yes, here."

Christine's hands went down to his pants. She was awkward and shaking as she struggled to undo them, he paid that no mind and made quick work of unclasping the satin cloak. Her fingers somehow managed to unfasten the buttons that held him at bay. Eagerly she began to push down at his pants and when she reached for his straining member a hard gasp shuddered through him, but not began she had touched him there.

He sat up, straddling her and carefully to not crush her.

Christine blushed and bit her lip under his amber gaze.

She was completely naked. Underneath the cloak, which had now fallen open, her breasts were laid bare to his eyes. She breathed hard and her nipples hardened and stood taut as a breeze brushed by.

"Christine, you will be the death of me," he breathed and reached down to separate the rest of the cloak. He pulled it apart until she was completely naked and the satin material was more like a sheet beneath her.

Erik needed her. He bent down and flattened himself against her body, careful to not overwhelm her with his body weight. Reaching down Christine pulled his member free as Erik tugged his pants down further, his breathing was growing heavier. He got his pants down to about the middle of his thighs when Christine suddenly squeezed him, a strangled moan escaped him and he buried the sound into her throat, rocking his hips along to the movement of her hand.

She sped the movements of her hands and he reached down hurriedly to stop her.

"Not too fast," his voice sounded strangled and deeper. Using his hands and hers he guided her. His body was becoming prickled with heat and she shuddered as it surrounded her. Pulling his hands away from hers as she stroked him slowly, tightly, he stuck his forefinger into his mouth, coating it.

Her eyes bulged as he suddenly reached down and pinched her nipples.

She cried out and threw her head back, thrusting her chest up at him and giving him a hard squeeze that left him breathless.

Erik reached down and touched his lips to the base of her throat, kissing it like a prized jewel, then he lowered his body so that she was no longer touching him and only stroking his hair. Erik's lips teased just around her taut nipple. And she twisted slightly towards his mouth, but he always kept his lips just out of reach. Suddenly he caught his teeth just where she wanted it the most and provided her with just enough pressure to make her groan and suddenly pull at his hair.

"Dear God," her moan was music and he licked and nipped on the nub on her breast, watching her neck, her muscles strained against her skin as she kept her face tilted to the right, "Erik, please…"

"What is it Christine?" He smirked as he raised his face to her, she looked up at him with an impatient look.

"Now."

"Now what?"

"Take me."

"How?" He whispered and kissed her earlobe, sucking gently, "you must guide me Christine, you made me lose my mind the last time."

She reached down and took him in her hand, aware of how hard he was, no longer hesitant about his size, she bent her lips to his ear and thought about Jessica, and all that she had told her, in a moment of impatience and need she bit his earlobe and whispered out, "I want your this," she gave him a firm squeeze, "your cock."

Erik gasped and moved back from her. Her eyes had darkened and now so had his. Where had she learned that? Probably the de Chagny girl, he guessed. She sat up and stared at him, a coy smile at her lips.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth, his tongue touched hers and they danced violently on one another, open mouthed and without regard for modesty. Her hands stroked him again, unable to not touch him, "you want me?" one of them whispered.

"Yes…" responded the other.

Erik gracefully turned her around and she frowned with confusion as he lay down and pulled her back with him so that she was staring up at the sky, and the cool wind hardened her nipples.

Erik reached around and put a hand at her throat with his arm between her small breasts. With his free hand he licked his forefinger and thumb, then reached to her breast and gently rolled it.

Christine shuddered against his chest as he used her body like a cello, holding her gently by the neck, playing her to perfection, drawing her inner strings tight and commanding the attention of every part of her.

"Erik," she moaned and rested her head back against his shoulder. Ignoring her he let his hand drift down until he met the heat between her legs. She gasped when he stroked her there. Against her every thought she touched his hand, following his movements as he played with her.

"You are so responsive Christine," he murmured and licked a long path along the side of her exposed neck, "you're so in tuned with everything… feel how you writhe when I do this," he inserted a finger into her and she whimpered and arched on his body.

"I cannot wait anymore," she informed him. Something in her throat bobbed against his palm when she swallowed.

His hand descended down to her hips and then locked there, she knew what was coming. With his other hand he easily inserted the head of his throbbing erection into her and with a soft groan pushed her hips down and his up to meet her halfway.

She felt so full. And as she lay against him she realized she was completely unable to control her own body. He had her hips in a deathly tight grip and controlled all of her lower body. He gave one sharp trust into her and Christine released a choked moan.

"Erik…" his name escaped her in one long note, "touch me please…"

Erik obliged and touched her just above where he was moving in and out of her. His breathing was ragged, and the open air made him feel more enthralled with everything around them. Skillfully he rubbed and stroked and bit. Her tolerance was amazing, he thought when he even gave a harder than usual squeeze at her nipples. She only begged for more, softly pleading with him.

Erik's movements increased in pacing and his angles became sharper. With every movement of his hip his lower body rose higher and higher off of the ground. Rabidly he pulled out of Christine and then climbed onto her. Her hands went around his head and she raised her hips as she pulled him down onto her.

"I need you, I need you," he panted like a prayer into her lips. The pink tint of her mouth had become rosy and her breathing had grown ragged. She was aware of the hard throbbing his fingers had caused and the moment he slid into her body she swore she saw the sky shift.

"Oh…" she breathed and held him closely as he panted into her neck.

He hardened and lengthened as he pushed and pulled, entered and exited her warm body. Her insides were boiling and her skin had faded into a pink color that he was very fond of. Licking her neck once more Erik whispered a rush of words, "do you know how long I have wanted you? I've needed you—and now, and now here… we are," he groaned and pushed hard into her. Christine's eyes hazed over as her hips rose to meet him, her fingernails were digging into his back, he hissed at the rush of pain and pleasure flooding his body and returned it with a nip at her throat.

"Yes, Erik," she needed him to move faster, there was a building urge within her and the outdoors only fueled her words, "here, I want you here, I need you here and _now_. Please, please, please. Erik, dear God, faster, ange."

Her scalp prickled and she braced her feet down onto the cloak beneath her, curling her toes and taking the fabric beneath them in the process. Wrinkling the blue satin as she tightened her toes more and more. Every pound into her body gave her a hard rush of warmth. It pooled into her stomach and she began to cry out and his thrusts hit her mound perfectly every time.

"Is this what you wanted?" Erik growled into her cheek, curling his fingers into her air carefully, "Christine you'll drive me mad." His words were hardly understandable through his groans.

"Yes," she gasped and released a whimper as she felt her insides swelling with the over-bloomed roses in her womb, he touched every petal, every part of her, "Erik!"

"Let it happen," he whispered, his thrust became frantic, this was it .He could feel it in the bottom of his spine, all the blood in his body rushed all at once down to where he was joined with her, she was tightening violently, and with everything he had he kissed her and pounded in and out of her. Once, twice, three times and heard her go over the edge before he felt it.

Her entire body stilled, her thighs became metal and then softened into satin. Her fingers dug into his lower back and she gave one hoarse cry, something that sounded like his name. Her muscles clenched around him and he continued to push in and out of her, carrying her further as she quaked and quivered.

"Chri—"His lips numbed and watered on her name. Everything blurred and his hips froze in her body. A hard tremor rocked him and he pushed again, in, and in, once again searching for some unimaginable depth as darkness surrounded him. He had closed his eyes. But she was still there, surrounding his entire body, her lips were still beneath him, trembling as she quivered.

"Oh, Erik…" She moaned one last time, struggling to catch her breath. Above her, Erik's hips jerked involuntarily, his hard breathing relaxed her and she blinked her eyes open, then swallowed and pulled his face up so that she could look at him.

His mask was slightly out of place. But his eyes were so darkened that she was certain he couldn't feel it through his haze of lust.

He rolled off of her and fell to the side with a limp manner. Christine shivered and clenched her thighs as a small quiver moved up her spine. Erik pulled his pants up again and struggled to make himself decent with his trembling hands.

"That was…" she licked her lips, they still tasted like him, and he looked at her with a nervous stare, "beautiful."

Rolling onto his hands and knees he bent and gave her one long kiss on the mouth. His limbs trembled still.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"I am."

Smiling Erik nodded, "good. Now, my love, we must return to our home and get dressed," he looked down at the cloak upon which she lay, "fully dressed," he warned.

"Ah, yes," she remembered with a bit of dissatisfaction, sitting up Christine sighed and trembled as the wind whipped.

"We must return the Opera House."

She nodded and put on her most nonchalant smile.

The thought of returning back there had never put fear in her heart. For the first time she truly did not want to return to the stage. She was afraid that if she did she would be met with hazel eyes gazing back at her from the crowd.

And how would she explain herself? Raoul would not be happy, she knew this.

She only hoped that she would not be caught alone with him. She released a wry smile, _but when do things work out in my favor?_

* * *

**Well... YOU SEDUCED ERIK CHRISTINE THATS ONE TIME! :) **

**So the next chapter will be them back in the Paris Opera House. We are approaching the end of the story now :) So... I hope you all enjoyed this story and also remember to Author Alert :) **


	48. This is Madness

**Chapter XLVIII**

The trip was spent with anxiousness boiling inside of Christine's stomach. She was not too sure that Erik felt the same way, the entire ride to Paris he had been rather calm and silent. And when he spoke it was of how he hoped to see her on the stage singing once again.

She too shared the same dream, however she was not as excited as she might have once been. The prospects of seeing Raoul de Chagny set her skin on fire, in the worst ways. She suddenly felt ashamed of the way she had left in the middle of the night. Certainly, if he were to confront her and make a scene of it she would die of mortification. She would not know how to handle it at all.

Erik and Christine arrived within two days' time at Nadir's home. He invited them with open arms and Christine hugged him harder then she had originally intended. He laughed and blushed at her warm kisses on his cheek, Erik rolled his eyes within his mask and stalked towards the kitchen to prepare himself something to eat.

"Are you excited to perform Miss Daae?" Nadir asked her with a quiet excitement within even his voice when Christine had settled and taken a seat. She looked a bit tired but his presence had once again lit her with life. She had missed this man dearly.

"Yes Nadir, I am. I hope I get the role."

"You will, do not worry for that," Nadir smiled reassuringly, "you are the most talented woman of all of Paris. There is no way that you will not receive the role."

And just like that her nerves had started once again.

Erik, Nadir, and Christine conversed over cups of tea. Nadir informed her that Carlotta had been performing while Christine was gone and that her voice had not improved much but the shows were so spectacular that the seats remained filled, "however there is no life there," he told her, "the elite only go for show, not for _the_ show."

Erik excused himself to retire for the night and Christine nodded, watching him disappear up the stairs of Nadir's home silently. Her eyes began to droop as she was reminded of her overwhelming journey.

"Oh Christine, you must be so tired, come you must take my bed," Nadir said to her, setting his tea down.

"No, no, it is quite alright I will share with Erik." She completely missed his stunned and wide eyed look. She bid him goodnight and made her way up the stairs.

There were two doors, one to the right and one to the left at the very top landing of the stairs. Christine knew Erik resided in the one to the right and walked in to find him lying on his back with an arm tossed over his eyes, blocking out the single candle he had lit for her.

Silently Christine moved towards the suitcase that sat to the right of the room. Dropping to her knees she pulled out a nightgown and changed quickly and yet with sluggishly movements. Not quite slow but heavy handedly.

Upon climbing into bed Erik stirred and moved aside to make room for her on the too small bed. She didn't mind that it was not as comfortable as their own. Erik hardly minded it either, he was just tired.

"Goodnight my love," she whispered quietly, blowing out the candle on the nightstand.

"Goodnight, angel."

…

The next morning Christine awoke nervously. Erik was not beside her and she could hear him speaking with Nadir downstairs of politics. It made her roll her eyes as she changed quietly and stilled her nerves.

Today she would finally travel to the Opera House. Looking down at herself Christine wondered if she looked presentable enough. The rosy colored gown would have to do, perhaps her cloak would give it the empowering quality she hoped to emit before the managers today.

When Christine moved down the stairs Erik's conversation with Nadir grew more animated and she realized they had begun discussing religion.

"There are no such things as demons or angels Nadir. There are no ghosts either. There has been no substantial data-

"It is a matter of faith, Erik."

"Oh, of course!" Erik exclaimed with mock enthusiasm, "and I suppose that if I saw Beelzebub behind you at this moment that you would believe me? Of course not," he snapped at his friend just as Christine reached the last step, "do not put everything into the matter of faith just because you have not been provided with an answer. Your religions doctrines have been consistently proven wrong and yet you cling to whatever hope you still have. Religion has taught us nothing Nadir, only science and questionings of moral teachings have gotten us this far."

Nadir said nothing to that, turning his eyes to the flames as Christine rounded the stairs. Erik's head turned towards her and for a moment he couldn't feel his hands. She stunned him. Her curly hair fell perfectly over her shoulder and her blue inquisitive stare made him numb.

"Good morning Erik, Nadir," Christine gave a slight curtsy, both men instantly stood at her approaching and kissed her hand. Christine blushed at the press of Erik's lips to her knuckles, Nadir smirked. He already knew everything he had to know.

"How did you sleep, Christine?" Erik watched her take a seat and then followed. She smiled at Nadir who passed her a cup of tea.

"I slept well, thank you, and yourself?"

"Same," Erik commented shortly, snapping his eyes to the fire instead of the rise and fall of her collarbone. Nadir stifled a laugh by drinking from his cup, "at what time do you plan to go to the Opera House?"

"Now."

"Then I suppose you should be well on your way Christine," Nadir stood with a smile and glanced at Erik, "would you like me to accompany Christine?"

"Yes-

"No," Christine interrupted Erik with a bit of annoyance, "last time I remembered I could make decisions on my own-

"Christine-

"I am going on my own Erik that is final."

Erik watched with a narrowed gaze as she sipped the last of her tea and then stood and made her way up the stairs. He could see the annoyance radiating off of her shoulders and stood. Did she really think that he would let her walk the streets of Paris alone? Her? With all the men that were obsessed with seeing the famous Christine Daae even daylight was not enough to protect her from the evil clutches of these men.

When he reached the bedroom he found Christine tying the ribbon of her satin blue cloak around the base of her throat. Resisting a tempting groan at the reminder of what he had once seen so bare beneath the satin material he shut the door soundly behind himself.

Christine stiffened at the sound of the door closing and turned slowly. Erik stood there, tall and imposing with his hands behind his back. His amber eyes were narrowed in her direction and for a long time all he did was stare at her, clenching and unclenching his jaw with frustration.

"You are not sending Nadir with me, and I take great offense to the manner in which you intended to answer for me. I am capable of making my own decisions-

"Do you not understand that there are many dangers?-

"The sun is out and there are plenty of individuals in the street Erik. There is no reason at all as to why I cannot walk down the street on my own-

"Why must you always try to defy me? Do you not understand that whatever I do it is always for your protection! Do you forget all that you have gone through?"

"I do not forget!" Christine exclaimed angrily back, raising her voice, "and do not presume to make me feel guilty for your controlling manner by explaining to me that it is for my protection. I understand very well that you care for my safety. I am not a child. But you will not throw all that has happened back at me by trying to overwhelm me and control me."

"I am not trying to control you!" Erik was seething now. He stepped forward and glared down at her as she matched his glare with equal annoyance if not more, "I am trying to make you understand that there is no reason as to why Nadir should not go with you. The women of Paris would be glad to have a husband who cares as much as to send them in the company of a trusted man to protect them! And here you are, behaving like an ungrateful child," as his anger grew his words became more damming. Erik began to grow angry, afraid that there was something more behind this, why would she not let Nadir o with her? As he continued Christine's eyes widened with shock and repulsion at his last sentence, "do you hope to see Raoul de Chagny? Is that why you are opposed to allowing Nadir your company to the Opera House? Have you changed your mind after seeing me?"

It seemed to her that he had slapped her

Or at least he might as well have.

Her energy left her in one single moment. Erik watched her deflate and suddenly take in a single deep breath. As her lip trembled a sudden regret overcame him, _did I accuse her of wanting another man?_

"Move Erik," her words were spoken so harshly that he blinked with confusion, "I am leaving and returning in a few hours. By then I expect to find you in a more reasonable mood. Now, excuse me-

"Christine," he touched her hand only for her to forcefully remove it away from him. He felt as if she had burned him, but she felt the same exact way, "Christine please-

She shoved by him without another word. Erik's hand darted out and wrapped around her elbow in one graceful movement, but it seemed to him that she had developed more strength in her anger because she wrenched it out of his grasp and gave him one firm shove away from her.

He fumbled two steps back as she stood seething and turned towards the doorway.

Erik could hear her heavy steps down the stairs and then ultimately the sound of the door closing downstairs.

Nadir walked up the steps hastily and pushed open the door to where Erik was standing with his eyes on the floor as if concentrated, "what in the world has happened? Christine left in a fury!"

Erik gritted his teeth, "I am a moronic fool Daroga, that is what has happened."

…

Christine walked down the street with an angry strut. His words burned her, after all, how could he suspect that she would ever go back to that pompous Raoul de Chagny after all that she had shared with him?

"It would only occur to Erik," she muttered under her breath. _All this because I did not want to be joined by Nadir, as if I were a two year old child who could not walk to the Opera House in the daylight. Only Erik would think something so foolish, and Nadir! How dare he ask Erik for permission to walk with me? I am my own person!_

_Men! _She shrieked mentally.

Men gawked at the beautiful woman who flit down the street sternly. It was obvious to them all that this was Christine Daae and as much as they wished to share a word with her the women on their arms prevented them from going very far. A few men, who were alone did attempt to approach her but she skidded by them without even noticing.

The Opera House loomed in the distance proudly. Nerves did not sit in her belly as they once might have. In fact she felt completely calm. She knew that she would have to audition today, and not in front of Erik or with him watching over her. She did not mind this either. Christine entered the Opera House with a small smile planted on her face and curtsied at the man opening the door.

"Are you new in this establishment, Sir?" She asked the man, he was tall, powerfully built with a handsome jaw bone and dark eyes. His skin was colored like chocolate and he beamed at her happily.

"Yes, Madame Daae."

"You know my name?" She frowned with confusion.

"Of course," his thick French accent sounded as he spoke, "you are the best opera singer of Paris."

She blushed and shook her head, "thank you sir, could you please tell me if you are aware of the manager's location within the opera house at this moment?"

"Yes, they are in their offices per usual," he said it with a warning tone, "they are with Miss Carlotta."

"Thank you very much," she flashed him a dazzling smile and entered the Opera House. The air smelled like lavender and fresh paint. She smiled at a few passing faces and made her way towards the manager's office, briefly wondering if Meg was somewhere in the vicinity as well.

Before she was within a hearing distance of the manager's office she could hear Carlotta shrieking at them about something. The words themselves were muffled but she was clearly angry. That was obvious in her tone of voice.

When Christine knocked on the door it was instantly pulled open by none other than Carlotta herself.

That's when Christine's heart dropped to her stomach.

"Oh, here she is, our little flower," Carlotta smiled in the most sarcastic fashion, Christine entered the room cautiously, aware of the managers astounded eyes.

"Miss Daae! We did not expect you back so soon!" Andre, his dark eyes flashing with a bit of contempt, "Raoul de Chagny had given us word that you were to be married in the summer and that you would not be performing until that time."

"Raoul de Chagny and I are no longer engaged," she whispered, noticing the way that Carlotta's eyes widened as the woman came around and stood beside the managers, as if she had the right.

"Truly?" Fermin turned to stare at Andre with wide and frightened eyes, then he turned to stare at Christine, his short and plump body stiffened, "well… I am sorry to hear-

"I am here to audition," she smiled brightly, interrupting them before they became enthralled with the topic of the vicomte, "I would like to play a role in Il Muto-

"No!" Carlotta shrieked, "the role is mine!"

Christine jumped at her outburst as did the managers who sighed with frustration in unison, "Carlotta please do not shout," Andre stated.

"I have been here for much longer then Christine! It is my role!" Her red hair trembled as she dramatically stabbed a finger in Christine's direction, "she abandoned the entire opera house and now she dares return-

"I only want an audition. I do not want anything else… I swear it. I do not have to have the lead I only want to sing—

"No! No! No!" Carlotta shouted in a fury and stomped over to Christine, glaring down at her, "you are an overwhelming bratty woman Daae-

"Bratty?-

"You always get what you want-

"That is because I do not shriek my way through songs!" Christine shouted back, enraged, the managers jumped with shock, "do not insult me simply because you cannot respect that I know that I am not below you. I will not bow down to you, or to anyone else Carlotta, I am not the same child you once knew. And you are going to respect me."

Carlotta stared at her with rage, "fine Christine Daae, audition, but you will not steal this role."

Christine smiled sweetly, "I do not need your permission to do what I want."

Christine strut out of the room and went in search of Reyer. She could hear him shouting at the chorus from the stage, smiling at the familiarity of it she hurried her steps, all too aware of Carlotta's shouting behind her.

She waited politely until Reyer had stopped yelling at the chorus and when he turned and saw her his eyes lit up, "Miss Daae!"

"Monsieur Reyer," Christine curtsied and smiled and waved at the chorus, "I would like to audition for Il Muto."

**…**

Erik sat before Nadir's fireplace with an expression of pure frustration. Christine had left the home quite a while ago and now he felt nothing but anxiety. He hoped that she was not too angry with him, but he knew that she would be. She had left in a fury.

Erik closed his eyes and sipped a bit of the wine he had taken from Nadir. It burned only slightly on its way down. He did not enjoy the taste but it make him calmer. It was taking all of his effort just to stay seated.

When there was a knock at the front door Erik instantly flitted towards the kitchen and Nadir came out to answer. Erik peeked his head out from where he stood and as soon as Nadir pulled the door open his relief escaped him in the form of a sigh. Christine entered with a small smile and then hugged Nadir, when she noticed Erik coming out of the kitchen she smiled only slightly.

"How was your audition?" Nadir asked her tentatively, noticing how Erik leaned on the door frame and stared her down, beckoning her to talk to him.

"It was pleasant," Christine smiled only at Nadir and then removed her cape, "Reyer was sweet. I met with the managers and I saw Carlotta, it was evident that I was not welcome to her. But I ignored her and found Reyer, I auditioned and got a role."

Erik stepped out towards her and Christine ignored him to the best of her ability, but the intensity of his presence made her shift. A satisfied internal smirk grew within him at her obvious discomfort, "what role did you get?"

Christine answered Erik while looking at Nadir, "the silent role."

**…**

"Those imbeciles!" Erik exploded, causing Nadir to clutch his chest from fright and Christine to bite her lip from a small laugh threatening to bubble up within her, "this is _not_ funny Christine Daae! A silent role! Have they lost their minds?! No, no, no, this cannot be- this will _not_ be! That damnable woman, that Carlotta!" He hissed. Nadir took a seat, shakily sipping the wine glass Erik had set down.

"You are going to give me an attack of some sort Erik – please, do calm yourself-

"You would be best silent Nadir Khan!" Erik spit as he balled his hands.

"Oh, you frighten me so much," Nadir countered sarcastically.

"Erik is it quite fine," Christine stepped forward and took the opportunity to play a single palm on his vibrating chest, "it is a role nonetheless. I will be on stage for most of the performance-

"_Not singing_," he countered, "I will write to them. This will be remedied—

"Erik no," she shook her head vehemently, "the first performance is in three days. Let me finish that one and then I will consider what you propose, but please let me have that one moment on stage. Please?"

Erik bit back a growl and nodded. Three days and Jonathan would be dead. He would be able to escape Christine's presence without her questioning it.

"Alright Christine…"

All the scores would be settled.

Or so he thought.

**...**

Raoul sat in his home with a glass of wine in his hand and a plate of fish. He was not hungry, no, he was excited.

Word had come into him early that afternoon that Christine Daae had been spotted in the Opera House. Instantly rumors began swirling that she was indeed performing, and upon further investigation he had found that she was performing in three days. A small smile graced his face as he thought of her.

Her phantom, guardian, lover, and beast would be there no doubt.

_And so will I_, _rumor has it that the phantom resides within box five, and I will be there. Waiting for you in darkness, just as you had waited for me all those year ago. Fear my fury. _

Raoul chuckled a bit at the thought of how confused the masked man would be.

It would be a night of celebration, the phantom would be unmasked. Raoul would be the hero of this tale.

He smiled grimly and thumb the ivory colored gun on the table, _his reign would end._

* * *

**The next chapter might be the last one, but there might be the one more after that.**

**Not exactly sure how I want to split it up. It will take me a bit to write it, so expect perhaps a three day waiting period haha! And expect a lot, of suspense, but don't you dare give up. Follow through my dears! And also as promise I will most certainly inform you of what my upcoming story is about, it is POTO, and it's similar to this one in some respects but not in all. SO - REVIEW. AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK IS GOING TO HAPPEN :) THANK YOU TO FP33! My FF buddy! :) **


	49. Down Once More

**Chapter XLIV**

Christine could hear the crowd settling as she stood in her place near the stage. She wouldn't be on until the last half of the first act. Already she could feel her stomach tightening in knots. She knew, somewhere in the back of her head, that the crowd would not be pleased to see her with a silent role. She adored the crowd, and they loved her back. She knew this and wouldn't deny it for anything in the world.

"Christine," Meg stood at her side and shook her friend, "have you heard a word I've said?"

Christine blinked with surprise and looked down at her friend, "forgive me Meg, what is it?"

The short blonde frowned at her very distracted friend, "I said that it appears that Raoul de Chagny has made an appearance. He is in the first row, do you see him?"

Her body stiffened in one fluid movement and she popped her head slyly out to roam her eyes over the crowd. And yes, there he was, finding his seat without difficulty. Occasionally he glanced up at Box 5. Christine gave a hard shudder and pulled her head back behind the curtain, why did he continue to raise his gaze up towards Erik's box? Perhaps he caught sight of something there? Erik couldn't have been there just yet. There was no way.

Raoul looked the same, and yet different to her. His eyes were dreamy and tired, and his hair was not as glossy as it once seemed to be, there were stray locks of hair sticking out of his mane.

Christine shrugged, "it is not important. I am here only to perform. His presence does not distract me in the least, now, the show is about to begin. I will see you after it is done."

…

Erik took his seat in his Box and waited for the performance to start.

He was not a patient man, and knowing that he would have to wait so long until she actually came onto the stage was making him almost violent. He found it unfair that Christine should have to stand beside Carlotta and remain silent. But alas, it was so.

Erik smirked as the lights started to dim, Act II would be the most spectacular part of the show, after all. It would be the moment when Carlotta's voice would give out. He had taken great care to switch the bottles of her spray, leaving it sitting pristinely on her desk so that when it came she would not notice anything out of place.

"Foolish woman," he smirked, "come act II you will be croaking instead of shrieking," _the people of Paris should thank me. _

The curtains opened and as they did the music began. Erik settled deeper into his chair and watched with a disinterested gaze. That look melted into one of absolute annoyance as Carlotta took the stage. Her white wig did nothing to make her look any more pleasing to the eye, and whenever she screeched out a note his hand tightened around the arm of the chair.

"Blasted creature," he snapped quietly, "you ought to be at the end of my rope, perhaps only then will you be silent," he knew that that would never happen. Christine would suspect him and the look in her eyes would be far too much for him to take. But he could dream of it nonetheless.

…

From where Raoul sat he discreetly moved his eyes up to Box 5. That is where the ghost should have been. But every time he ran his eyes up there the only thing he saw was darkness. Was the man, or _thing_, not here? He had to be!

Raoul returned his eyes to the stage and thumbed the expensive weapon at his side. He did not really know how to shoot, his father had taught him very little in his youth about how to defend himself and take a life, _instead he taught Philippe everything. Perhaps he grew tired of the lessons, and by the time I came along he did not have the energy, or love, for it anymore._

And where was Christine? he felt starved of her in his vision and the longer he waited the more he shifted. Discomfort was beginning to settle, along with annoyance. _I should not have bought these seats, Carlotta's voice is beginning to make my head ache. _

The show went on and on and Carlotta's voice grew higher and higher. She stretched her mouth obnoxiously wide, and every so often she would look over at him, his eyes would capture her own and then she would try to coquettishly play it off. But he could see the pink tint on her cheeks beneath the powder white makeup.

Then finally he saw her. She came onto the stage in the disguise of a maid, silent and not speaking.

He laughed at the dramatic manner in which Carlotta and Christine interacted, especially when they pretended to kiss one another. Christine sat beside Carlotta and placed her hands on her own narrow hips and then began to silently chuckle.

Before he knew it the Act was over and it was intermission time. Raoul watched the curtains close and instantly stood from where he sat.

_I need to see her, _he thought as he conspicuously tucked the gun away, _I must. _

**…**

"You did wonderfully," Meg gushed as Christine grinned at her and changed back into her gown, Carlotta sat in front of the mirror and quietly did her makeup, preparing for the next Act. Meg helped Christine in lacing up the back of the gown, "truly you were splendid. It was very funny."

Christine blushed and then looked over at Carlotta who was staring down at her makeup with a frown.

"You did very well too, Carlotta," Christine smiled, the green eyed woman looked up and blinked, "truly your voice is magnificent," _I should not lie, _Christine thought, _but she did act very well. _

"Thank you Miss Daae," Carlotta whispered quietly and stood from where she sat and began a shaky walk to the door, "you too were quite a pleasure to behold."

Christine grinned as Carlotta gave her a small smile and left the room.

"Christine I must return to the stage, we are set to begin in ten minutes, I will find you after the show is done, if I do not see you then I shall simply talk to you at some other point in time," Meg hugged the brunette woman and skipped out of the room quietly, leaving Christine to her own devices.

She truly hoped that Erik enjoyed the show. It was after all the first performance she had done in a long time. It truly was a spectacular moment, she did not sing but that did not rob her of the pleasure of being on the stage once again. She had even gotten a small smile from Carlotta!

This was a brilliant night.

Looking towards the mirror Christine tried hard to not feel sad. She knew that the lair was empty, and yet the urge to travel back there was overwhelming her. What did she hope to find? There was nothing left. Erik had no doubt made it a mission to make it look as though no one had ever been down there.

"It cannot hurt to see it one last time," she murmured quietly and took the lit lantern.

Christine approached the mirror and eyed it suspiciously, how did she open this contraption? She had no clue.

Remembering Erik's hand placement she set the lantern to the floor and placed her hands on the golden colored edges of the mirror. She pulled to the right and found that it would not move, not even the slightest bit, but when she pulled outward, as if towards herself, she could hear it giving way just a bit.

Christine repeated the movement and suddenly found that the mirror was sliding easily to the right and out of her way. Erik would be proud, she imagined, and slightly annoyed that she had figured out a way to do it.

She took the lantern up again and stepped into the familiar darkness with a small smile on her face. She closed the mirror only slightly so that she might be able to find her way back out and began to descend.

…

Raoul moved past the people backstage effortlessly. Christine was no doubt in the dressing room. He would corner her there and demand that she explain exactly what had inspired her to leave. He thought things were going well. Then he had woken up to an empty bedroom and a ring on the floor.

Raoul entered the dressing room and frowned.

"Of course," he growled out, "she disappears yet again."

Shutting the door he stepped into the cramped room and looked around. He could see the outfit she had worn hanging on a metal bar. There were bottles of what he imagined were perfumes and also a small dish of powder. Carlotta's singing began on the stage and he sighed, relieved to be out of her presence.

As Raoul continued to walk around the dressing room with interest and slight annoyance he caught sight of a strange gap between the wall and the mirror. Approaching it cautiously Raoul analyzed it with interest. What was this?

Raoul carefully stuck his hand through the small slither of space and pulled it out, it gave way and strangely slid to the right, instead of away from the wall which was the direction in which he pulled. _What a marvelous contraption! _

Peering into the dark Raoul pulled out his weapon and reached for a single candle which rested beside the powder on the dresser.

It wouldn't take an idiot to figure out that this was certainly where Christine was. He knew that she disappeared into the dressing room all the time, but what could possibly be here?"

Curiously, and warily, Raoul raised his weapon to the air, prepared to shoot the first thing that popped up, and so he too began to descend.

**…**

Erik snickered violently as Carlotta croaked horribly. His grin almost hurt his face and for a long time all Carlotta could do was look around with tears in her eyes and confusion giving way to fear, she could not understand what was happening to her voice. Again, she tried but it became worse, and the managers, from where they sat in the box across from him were red with embarrassment and rage. Carlotta tried again, and now her voice gave a fatal crack that sent outrage through the crowd as they stood and began to yell.

Erik stood with a chuckle and moved out of the darkness and into the dark hallway past the curtain. No one dared to walk through here, the rumors of Box 5 frightened them too much.

He stepped up to a panel that he had built into the wall and slid it open, it gave way and when he crouched, so that his back was bent low, and stepped into it he could hear Carlotta give one last painful attempt. He laughed as he moved down the narrow and swirling steps.

His fingers were already twitching with anticipation. As he descended he could already feel the blood rushing in his ears, the call of death. He would dispose of Jonathan's body in the lake, then there would be no evidence and he would not have a respectful burial. He did not deserve it.

Erik continued to move down and down until he finally came to a stop at the tunnel. It would lead him to Jonathan. He knew to be careful, there were traps set here. Cautiously he began making his way towards Jonathan's waiting place.

**…**

Christine stopped at the edge of the lake and sighed.

How would she get across, the boat was not here.

The scent of the lake filled her with a nice sense of nostalgia. It was thicker then she remembered, and almost icy. It fizzed through her senses and for the longest time the only thing that she could do was smell… the misty air, the dewy walls…. The cool air seemed to cling to her skin like a wet blanket and she shivered as her hairs rose and her skin prickled at the cold.

She began to softly sing the song Erik had written, Music of the Night. It was by far her favorite piece. It was beautiful, haunting, slow, and romantic. _Just like him._

Her voice carried itself over the lake and rebounded off of the walls until it surrounded her. She sounded strange even in her own ears. This would be the last time she was here, she knew that. And so she sang louder and louder.

**…**

Raoul stopped at the fork of the tunnel and stared. He did not know which to take. It seemed to him that no matter which he took the possibilities of being lost remained the same. And with that in mind he began to take the one to the right.

The tunnels were dank and it seemed to him, cramped. It felt as if though he could not breathe. And how far down had he gone? Did it even matter? What in the world was Christine doing down here? With that in mind he began to call to her.

"Christine! Christine!"

He stopped walking as he listened for a response. At first Raoul heard nothing. Silence greeted him like a lover and embraced him just as it had been doing the entire way down. But very suddenly he heard what sounded like impatient snappy growling, he opened his mouth to shout for her again, but thought better of it. _It is her guardian._

Raising his gun and quietly stilling his harsh breath Raoul began to move deeper into that tunnel. His hand trembled and he gripped the weapon harder. He could make out a wooden door in the distance, and it was clearly a door as he spied an iron knob that served as some sort of handle.

The closer he came the louder the words grew. The door was slightly open, and as he stopped beside the entrance he peeked his head inside.

He could see a figure within, on his feet and making quick and jerky movements. He could hardly make him out in the dark and quickly set his candle down as he raised his weapon and entered the room silently. The man was speaking in quick whispers.

"Death is _nothing_," he was spitting, "a vicious death is what we _all_ deserve. I fear no man, no woman, and no animal."

"Turn around," Raoul spit viciously.

The man stiffened and raised his head. Raoul squinted in the dark and made out a marred cheek.

"Turn around!"

"You do not command me," the man growled out in a strange voice. He turned and Raoul caught sight of pale skin and a bony face, "so, you will be the one to end me? My eyes have adjusted to the dark, you are nothing but a boy. You will not succeed in this most pathetic endeavor."

"You are a demon from—

The thing launched himself to the right and jumped towards Raoul.

Before he could squeeze the trigger Raoul found himself thrown to the floor and struggling viciously. The weapon clattered into the darkness. And he beat at the monster

The man had his hands clamped around Raoul's throat. As he lowered his face angrily towards the vicomte his face became both less clear and more distinguishable. He could make out a bloated, swollen mouth and cheeks too prominent to be healthy. As he choked under the weight of the creature above him Raoul grasped a hard object, croaking as pressure built up in his head.

He brought it crashing down with amazing force upon the monsters cheek. He was snarling words and choking on disorientation as he fell to the right and Raoul came to his feet, struggling to breathe.

"You will never be good enough for her!" Raoul yelled, "I was there for her! You cannot give her happiness!"

"Foolish creature," the deformed man chuckled darkly. Raoul's last words echoed around the room and out the door, "you know nothing of what -

Raoul launched himself in a fury again and kicked the man over, but the man quickly came up on his feet and caught Raoul with his pale fist in the jaw. It snapped shut with the force and Raoul crumpled to the ground.

The beast approached again but Raoul quickly sprung to his feet and blindly ran at him, he locked his arms around the man's legs and picked him up.

"Damn you!" The beast roared as Raoul slammed him to the cave floor, he heard a crack and watched the man roll onto his chest, coughing blood from his marred mouth.

"You demon, you satanic hell-beast! She was mine!" Raoul struggled to breathe as the man listened to the words echo, over and over like a horrible punishment, "she deserves light and life not darkness!"

More silence ensued as the man on the ground struggled for balance, his head was ringing.

"You deserve the worst," Raoul breathed, "you deserve to live knowing that I will take her from you, over and over…" he bent down and grasped a large stone, "but alas, I am just as selfish as you. I will not permit you to kill anyone else, or hurt her."

Raoul hurled the rock in his hand at the man's head.

He heard the contact before he saw its effects. Like stone on stone it cracked against the demon's face. Blood exploded from his cheek. It gave a sharp hiss as Raoul grabbed another stone and hurled it.

"Devil!" The beast cried out with angry shock now and stretched pale fingers over his face, struggling to defend himself as another stone crashed against his head, disorienting him.

"Monster! Monster!" Raoul yelled viciously, "murderer!" He picked up a weighty rock and hurled it at the man's skull.

The sound of the stone hitting his head echoed in Raoul's head as he watched his neck jerk back against the floor.

A rivulet of blood cracked open at his forehead as he began violently leaking out onto the floor. He slumped down with a weak moan and a hard breath and weakly tried to cover the gaping wound. He snarled things from his bleeding mouth over and over, "damn you, damn you, damn you!" and crawled for safety.

He made a grab at the gun but Raoul wasn't having it.

He came down upon the man and violently brought the stone down. Once, twice, another time, and then three more. The breath wheezed out of the monstrous figure below him. Raoul glimpsed red liquid pooling at his mouth and leaking out of his nostrils. Even in the dark he could see the damage he inflicted when the stone fell.

His fingers grasped for Raoul's neck but caught only on cloth, weakly he tried to cover his face, but the stone was cutting into his arms, hurting him, reminding him of all he had endured so many years ago, living in poverty. Was this what all of his victims had felt? This awful pain?

Raoul's breathing was ragged and try as he might he could not stop beating at the man until exhaustion forced him to.

He sat on top of him for a long moment. Gasping and staring down at the horrible skeleton face. It was not moving. And his chest no longer expanded, it was at a constant state of rest.

A triumphant breath escaped him.

Fisting his hands into the thin hair of the man's head and he jerked his face towards the dim candle light from outside the room so that he might examine him. The skin of his eyelids were swollen shut and his teeth were cracked. Blood poured from between his bloated lips. His temple was crushed in and his skull face looked more like a crushed grapefruit then anything made of a solid substance like bone.

"_Raoul?" _

He looked in that direction and squinted towards the figure in the dark. She stepped forward on unstable feet, her fingers clutched to the frame of the door, horror and confusion fixed in her stare. Fascination and ecstasy painted in his.

"It is over now," he smiled.

* * *

**...one more chapter...**

**review.**


	50. Chapter L

**Chapter L**

Christine's eyes bulged in horror at Raoul who smiled at her. His mouth moved and she heard nothing. Her eyes were locked on the figure on the ground. Christine released a strange sound from her throat as the scent of blood and filth infiltrated her senses.

She took a shaky step forward and kept moving, staring at the man beneath Raoul's figure. He was so still, so unmoving, so not alive…

Her hands balled into fists and she clamped her hand over her mouth as she stopped before the figure, Raoul stared up at her with a small smile.

"Get off of him!" She slapped Raoul hard in the face and he fell away in shock as Christine's knees cracked on the cement. She released a strangled inhuman sob as she reached out and touched the marred face, "Erik, oh God, my love, what has happened, dear God why have-

It was caught off as an abrupt sob broke through her words. Her chest felt uncomfortably tight, she could have sworn her ribs were cracking under the intense pressure. Her throat felt constricted and there was a dry knot there like the end of a rope fitted into the cavity of her mouth.

"Christi—

"Stay away!" she sobbed horribly, her tears blurred her vision and she felt a pain like no other as she touched his cold forehead where blood was leaking out so horribly. _This cannot be real. Not Erik, not my Erik, he is my immortal angel. How can he leave me? There has to be life in him, there was always life in him! _She grew more horrified and confused at the dead body. How could he be gone? How could it be as if he had never existed? How could he be gone as if he had never been the owner of _this_ body.

This was _his_ body, and yet _he_ was nowhere to be found, as if it did not matter in the slightest! As if he was robbed of life and this carcass which she had caressed and loved was _nothing_. Nothing but a mocking reminder that this was all she would have now. A decomposing thing! And Erik… the being which had caressed her with these now dead fingers, and loved her with those swollen bloody lips, and spoken to her with that cold throat, he was gone.

And this was all she had left?

An inanimate body to remind her of what she would no longer have?

To mock her about her love, and his touch, and to silently remind her that these bodies they had were absolutely nothing?

"No! No!" She shook her head so hard it hurt and sobbed and screamed into her hands as Raoul watched her in front of the beast, "this is his body, his _body_, _his_!" she raved with passionate cries, "this is a nightmare, this cannot be!"

"Christine-

"No!" She exploded and punched the body angrily, "wake up! Erik stop! Stop it!" She sobbed and shook him, struggling under the weight, "please don't leave me, my love," she cried softly, touching her forehead to his leaking head and lifting his corpse towards her, hoping he might hear her from wherever he resided in the afterlife… hoping he would defy God and return to her. She struggled to pull him up and groaned with effort as she nestled his blood face into her throat, pleading him one more time, "please Erik, do not leave me, _please_… please…"

She whispered it over and over like a prayer, pleading to God, to her dead father, to the Gods of the Vikings and Nadir's prophet, to the Gods of the Egyptians and those of the Greeks and Romans. To any God that might exist, just in case she was wrong about hers. To anyone that might listen.

But the body would not move, only Raoul's ragged breathing accompanied hers.

He watched her with the monster for a long moment, blinking with horror. She was covered in its blood and it frightened him to think that she was just sitting there allowing herself to be coated in it.

"I am so in love with you," she whimpered, "stay with me, do not leave me… please," she begged, _history is repeating itself. Father did not wake up when I begged… neither will Erik. _

She leaned over and began to vomit and gag. This could not be happening, Erik could not really be gone. She clutched t her throat as the acidic substance burned. It eventually stopped and she only heaved for air, struggling to catch her breath.

Raoul reached forward and grabbed her by the arm, "get up—

"Release me!" Her eyes flamed at him and he did as she demanded. She grabbed onto the corpse protectively, "you monster, you beast…"

"Get up," he demanded and reached for her again. This time he ignored her as she beat furiously at his chest and screamed, "stop it! Damn it! Christine!"

"Release her you disgusting fop!"

Christine's eyes flashed to the doorway and her knees gave out. Raoul released her and she went crashing to the floor from shock.

He was standing there, phantasmal and enraged. Erik's mask caught the glow of the candle that had been on the outside of the door. And his amber eyes flashed around the room, first to Raoul, then to Christine, and lastly to the body.

A look of deep concentration ran through his face and then he looked to Christine who was sobbing with wild abandon and suddenly running at him.

Raoul's hand lashed out and pulled her back with so much force that her head crashed upon the corner of a table in the room as she fell. He lunged for the gun on the ground but Erik already had him by the throat and pinned to the cement, Raoul struggled uselessly.

"Did you think you had gotten rid of me?" Erik sneered with a low voice, "did you really think that your skinny limbs would have destroyed something like me?"

"Erik," Christine whispered his name through her daze and blinked away the haze, struggling to come to her feet, she could hear Raoul sobbing.

The masked man smirked down at the vicomte who beat at Erik's arms, every punch was growing weaker and weaker and his eyes were bulging forward, rolling as Erik strangled, "do not make this so easy," he pleaded with a chuckle, "I have waited for weeks and years to see you lose your life."

Raoul grasped the bottom of Erik's mask in a sloppy movement and ripped it off of the man's face, only to release a strangled scream at the man's face. It was more horrible than what he had thought. It was more grotesque then The fact of the man he had killed and mistakenly thought to be this beast.

"Yes, it is horrible," Erik grinned maliciously and looked to Christine who stumbled towards him, "you have hurt her for the last time..." Erik reached for the blade at his side and pulled it out, Christine's eyes widened with horror. Raoul's eyes rolled towards the back of his head but Erik eased his grip, "I do not want you to miss this," he growled.

Raoul coughed violently as Erik stood over him and walked over to Christine, unmasked.

"Erik," she trembled and touched his face with fervor, "Erik you are not gone-

"I would never leave you my love," he gave her a hard kiss on the forehead and frowned at the scent of blood on her, "did you think I was gone?"

"Oh God," she sobbed and ignored Raoul who was coughing wildly, "do not ever do that to me again!"

Erik raised a brow, humored despite the corpse and the coughing man behind him, "what did I do?"

"You always wait until the last possible moment to appear!" She cried into his neck as he held her tightly.

"Then I apologize for my tardy behavior," he smirked.

Christine opened her eyes just as she heard metallic clatter. She looked at Raoul who was on his feet and had the gun drawn high towards her and Erik.

Without thought she used her small body to gracefully slip out of Erik's arms and run at Raoul. They all gave hoarse cries. Christine grabbed the weapon in her hand and weakly pointed the barrel to the ground with a groan of effort. A blast sounded.

Erik swooped down upon then and punched Raoul in the chin, knocking him backwards, and then the next moment he had embedded the blade deeply into Roul's side, causing the man to shriek with horror as he looked down at the blood that started to flow out of him.

Erik turned and notice Christine on the ground, clutching her leg frantically. Blood was seeping through the cloth of her dress. She was trembling.

"Damn it!" Erik marched over to her and grabbed the end of her dress and ripped the fabric, in a quick motion he stiffly removed her hands away, and jerkily raised the end of her dress up her leg until he saw the wound at her thigh.

"Erik—

"It is not a deep wound Christine," he said, hoping he was right. His voice was so tight in his throat that he could hardly speak. _Nadir would have to check on it_,he decided quickly and then tied the fabric tightly around her pale thigh, trying to keep his eyes trained on the wound and not on anything else. Trying to not snap at her for the stupidity.

"Let's go," she pleaded, "I do not want to be here, please."

Erik nodded once sharply and picked her up in his arms, looking down at Raoul de Chagny who had removed the knife from his side, Christine buried her face in Erik's neck and swallowed back all the pained sounds threatening to escape her. Her thigh was making it difficult to focus on Erik's calming scent.

"Never come after us again Raoul de Chagny, you are lucky that she requires medical attention." Erik growled somewhere far away as Christine lost consciousness and became deadweight.

Raoul nodded frantically, clutching his side as he stared in horror at the unmasked creature. He could feel every organ in his body protesting at the very sharp pain at his side.

Erik narrowed his amber eyes at the boy and then strode out the door as if he had never been there in the first place.

**...**

When Erik reached the cool outdoors he ran quickly towards Nadir's home using alleyways and the darkness. There was almost no one on the street, but he would not risk being seen without his mask. He did not realize he had left the blasted mask until he felt the cool blast of air upon reaching the streets of Paris.

"Erik.." Christine gave a soft moan, the blood loss at her leg was making it hard for her to stay awake, "you are not dead."

"No my love, I am not, stay awake," he pleaded gently. His heart was drumming viciously in his chest. If something happened to her he would kill Raoul de Chagny if he was not already gone.

"It is very hard," she explained drowsily, slumping her head against his shoulder and weakly swallowing, "it's very difficult…"

"Nadir!" Erik called as he approached Nadir's home, shaking Christine as she lost consciousness yet again. He roared his name one more time and rapidly ran towards the door.

Inside the home Nadir was running down the stairs. He had heard Erik's voice once and thought it to be a mistake of some sort, but upon hearing it again he knew that it was not a mistake, and the man sounded frantic.

When Nadir pulled open the door Erik came charging inside and set Christine down on the couch, trembling violently as he remember the very first time he had done the same thing. Except this time he loved her, and if she died it would end him.

Nadir was stupefied by two things, the first was the obvious blood on Christine's dress, but the second was more strange and intruiging, Erik without his mask.

"Help her. Help her or I will end you!" Erik sneered violently as he clapped a hand over his face and turned on Nadir who was staring at the both of them with confusion.

"What has happened?" Nadir shut the door and came to Christine's side immediately, when Erik would not answere he turned and glared, "answer me Erik I cannot help her if-

"Raoul de Chagny would have killed me, he hit her instead," he pointed to her leg, "she has a wound."

Nadir pulled the dress up and kept his eyes trained respectfully on the blood. Gracefully and without difficulty he untied the fabric from her thigh, wincing when Christine gave a hard flinch as he peeled back the last of the fabric.

"Get me the lantern," Nadir commanded Erik who had stepped so far back that his cape was almost touching the fire in the chimney. Quickly he grabbed the lantern off of the table and brought it closer to Nadir, glaring down at the unsightly blood streaming out of her thigh.

Quietly Nadir placed a hand on her thigh and poked and prodded, ignoring her as she stirred with discomfort

Erik's patience was wearing thin, Nadir was not telling him anything at all, and the more he examined Christine the more she shifted with pain.

"Damn it, Daroga! Tell me something!"

"She will be fine," Nadir was certain of it, and it gave Erik relief, "she needs stiches. I suppose her unconscious state is good. It will help us get through this quickly."

Nadir stitched Christine's wound with precision and skill. Erik made certain to keep his eyes on Nadir's fingers. Nadir knew what he was doing and could feel Erik's very judgmental gaze on him.

"Are you going to explain exactly what transpired?" Nadir's eyes narrowed as he examined his work for a moment before continuing, "I expect the truth."

Erik explained that he had arrived with Christine and that he had planned to finish Jonathan off in the intermission.

"When I got down to the cellar in which I kept him bound, as you know, I heard singing."

"Singing?" The Persian's eyes widened, "whatever do you mean? Was there an intruder?"

"I went in search of the voice, certain that it was Christine, but found she had stopped singing. When I got to where I knew she had been she was not there. But, as I had been making my way to her I heard what sounded like struggling. I ignored it, thinking that perhaps it was that vile creature putting up futile attempts at escape. I assume that it was at this time that she heard something as well because as I said when I had gotten to the place where she had been, she was not there! I thought I had imagined it Daroga. And the struggling sounds continued. Then there was silence. The next moment I heard Christine screaming."

"Screaming?"

"Yes!" Erik snapped, "must you repeat everything I say? Yes, she was _screaming_, quite loudly and when I ran after the sounds I could hear that _boy_. I went and found him shaking her to stop her hysterics. I quickly realized that he thought he had killed me, instead he had butchered the vile one."

Nadir's eyes bulged, "Raoul de Chagny…"

"He made a move to shoot me but then she," his eyes flashed down angrily to Christine, "managed to get in the way. I grabbed her and ran here. But I left him with a wound in his side. I've also forgotten my mask," Erik frowned and kept his hand clapped over the surreal side of his face. Nadir could still see the horrible nostril and the strange cheekbones, but he said nothing.

When the Persian was done with Christine's leg he excused himself to wash his hands and warned Erik to keep her still. The unmasked man nodded and did not reply, instead he knelt down by her side and touched his forehead to her hand.

Erik did not know what to think, he supposed that a part of him was not as frightened as it might have been if the wound her not in her thigh. She would never leave him. He would not allow it. She was his, he was hers, and that was the end of it. Death had no hold over the two of them, and he suspected that if there were such a thing as a reaper that it knew it as well.

Christine came to consciousness sometime later, her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the room with difficulty, and as soon as she made an attempt to sit up, trying to get her bearings, a cool hand pressed her down onto the mattress.

"Lay down Christine," Erik murmured gently and stroked her cheek, "I moved you up here with great difficulty. I will not risk you ripping open your leg because of your inability to sit still."

"Oh," she breathed and blinked unsure of what to say, "Where are we?"

"We are in Nadir's home," his eyes flashed angrily, "would you like to know why Christine? Can you remember what you so stupidly did? Or shall I remind you?"

She knew what she did, "I know very well what I did, I saved your life—

"And risked yours!" He hissed quietly, "how can you be so impulsive? Did you not think for a minute of what that imbecile could have done? What if he had shot you in the back Christine? You –

"He would have killed you," she glared, weakly, "Erik-

"Silly woman!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and sat up her forcefully, keep her leg still, "what would I have done if something were to have gone wrong? What if Nadir were not here? You could have died! Do you not understand what that would have done to your poor Erik?" His eyes widened at the prospects of her body, cold and still in his arms, her head blown apart by Raoul de Chagny… the images were too vivid, too horrible, "Christine, I would not survive it."

She blinked at him to clear her vision and also to try and understand if what she was seeing was real.

A tear slipped down his eye and mingled with the marred skin of his unmasked face. There was outrage, hopelessness, desperation, but mostly anger in his gaze. And he did not seem to feel the lone tear.

"Erik… do not cry my love," she embraced him and gently pressed his cheek into her chest. A tremble went through him as Christine wrapped two protective arms around him.

"You cannot leave me Christine…"

"I would never dream of such a horrid thing," she murmured and kissed his hair gently, stroking his back soothingly. Moments passed and Erik breathed in her scent, trying to calm himself and memorize the feel of her arms around him, so that when she removed them he would not feel so cold. But she did, and once again that empty feeling surrounded him.

He adjusted himself so that he was sitting behind her against the headboard, Christine nestled herself between his thighs and he ignored the press of her waist against his groin, he tried to focus on the feel of her cheek against his chest, and her fingers running up and down his arms as he held her.

"Erik I must ask you something."

Instantly he stiffened and tightened his arms around her. What could she want to ask? Whenever she had questions it was usually something that he did not like.

"What is it that you wish to ask?"

"Is Roul dead?" Her lips trembled, "did you kill Raoul?"

Erik's jaw hardened. Would she cry if he said yes? Her trembling only increased at his silence and he spoke, "I do not know. I injured him but left before I could ensure he was dead." _Hopefully he will never be found and he will rot. _His long fingers pinched her chin and turned her face up at him, his eyes darkened, "he did many things wrong Christine. If he should die, or if he is already dead, then he would have deserved it."

"I… I understand," she nodded, "but I do not like the idea."

"You do not have to," his voice deepened, "I will protect you from anyone or anything, and if they must die then so be it."

His lips found hers in an instant and when she melted against him he deepened it further, clutching her chin tighter. Her hand found the inside of his thigh and slid upwards, towards the pulsating organ between his thighs he pulled away and rested his forehead on her shoulder, clutching her wrists so that she would not do anything that would inspire lust, "you belong to me Christine."

"And you to me," she murmured quietly, enjoying the sensation of his breath along her neck.

Long moments of silence passed and when he regulated his breath he lifted his head and rested it against the backboard of the small bed.

"And… who was that man?" She asked quietly, looking up at Erik.

"What man?" He asked this with a truly confounded stare.

"The man that was in the tunnel… he was there before I reached the room Erik. I did not recognize his face," _that is because Raoul had destroyed it to pieces_, she shuddered, "did you know him? Is there any possibility at all that someone curiously ventured down there? That poor man…"

Erik pulled her face back down until it rested beneath his chin, _so beautifully innocent my Christine. _

"I do not know who that man was. I can only imagine that he mistakenly found a way into the lair," he lied so easily that it disgusted him.

"What a sad fate he had then…" She shook her head sadly, "what a cruel fate."

He answered in an empty tone of voice, "Yes, what a cruel fate."

"Why is it that bad things happen to good people?" Christine frowned, thinking of her father.

_Sometimes good people do not get what they deserve_, he answered in his thoughts. _Sometimes the monsters win._

He smiled darkly and kissed her forehead lovingly.

…

Raoul stumbled up the lair with groans, spitting blood and coughing violently. Occasionally he'd fall and have to force himself back up again with great difficulty. The wound was stinging worse with every step, and the lair seemed to be getting darker, and darker.

But yet, he could see light. It was in the distance, just a small sliver.

And so he trudged on, determined to make it before his legs would betray him, he gave a horrible cough and fell again. His knees were failing him. The dizziness was getting stronger as he clutched at his head and forced himself back up. There was no way that he would die here. This was no place to live, and definitely not a place to die.

Raoul stumbled to the sliver of light and stopped walking, blinking to clear his gaze. He could see the dressing room beyond this strange spot. And he realized with fascination that it was the mirror. Hastily he pushed it open and moved towards the door, gasping for air and calling for help.

When he pulled the door open he could see a rush of activity. Ballerinas were laughing and congratulating each other on a good performance, the managers were just in the distance. Carlotta laughed and flirtatiously touched the shoulder of a man.

"Help me, please," Raoul croaked, and it was only when he said this that people took notice.

"Good heavens!" Meg Giry shrieked and quickly darted away from him as he fell to the floor and clutched at the gaping hole in his side.

"What has happened?" People yelled different things all around him as he struggled to be heard over them all. Andre and Firmin were pushing through the crowd. Meg Giry was crying, her mother was staring at him with horror.

"Raoul de Chagny!" Andre pulled him up to his feet and quickly placed his hand over the hole in Raoul, "dear God man what has happened?"

Raoul choked on the blood and spit it out, it hit Firmin's shoes in the process but the man hardly noticed.

"I have…" he started, gagging again. He shoved Andre away and stood on his own two feet. Everyone stared on, surrounding him, "I have rid the Opera House of the Phantom," he held up his hand, showing off the white mask, "here is your proof."

A murmur moved through the crowd, Madame Giry's eyes blurred with tears and Meg looked on with confusion as her mother cried.

A man stepped forward with a brave energy about him, shaking his finger as Raoul swayed on his feet, "that is not proof! That is just a mask!"

A vivacious energy tore through the room, as if they were protesting against the supposed death of the Phantom.

"Fine," Raoul spit, "the body is down there, mangled with proof of why he had to hide his skeleton head. Go on and see, but I promise you that it will be a most unwelcome sight."

They all gasped with shock and horror at the implications. He truly was gone, but more importantly, he was not a ghost or a monster at all. They had been fooled!

Raoul was on the verge of passing out, "and he is gone. His body lays down there… dead. We struggled…" he was hardly making sense now. Andre and Fermin grabbed him gently and began towing him towards their office, demanding that a doctor be found, one stepped forward from the crowd and began to help Raoul as he slumped down on the chair. His blonde hair was matted with red blood and his face was bruised. His limbs made him feel heavy all over, and his lips moved of their own accord as people moved in a flourish about him as they lay him out on the table.

"Get towels!"

"Call the de Chagny's!"

"Water! Get water!"

"Where are the towels!"

"A man…" Raoul whispered, chuckling a bit as he began to lose consciousness, afraid that he might never regain it.

Tears sprung into his eyes at the thought that he might not awaken from the sleep he was falling into.

"He is nothing but a man…"

* * *

_Paradigm Lyrics:_

_Falling to my knees before you,_  
_So ashamed to see my weakness fill your eyes,_  
_Needlessly, I let myself stray before you,_  
_Now I face the consequence of my betrayal._

_My paradigm, my sweet love I breathe,_  
_It's you I rely on,_  
_Shelter me from cold, I die in paradigm._

_Do we sacrifice, let our story die?_  
_Blissful lullabies return again,_  
_If we still a while, let love survive,_  
_Delicately crawling to your grave._

_My paradigm, my sweet love I breathe,_  
_It's you I rely on,_  
_Shelter me from cold, I die in paradigm._

_Perfect sky, shadow find my lies,_  
_Good enough for always wanting mine _  
_Replaced all your love with pain_  
_So afraid to face the world alone._

_My paradigm, my sweet love I breathe_

_My paradigm, my sweet love I breathe,_  
_It's you I rely on,_  
_Shelter me from cold, and die in paradigm._

* * *

**So my angels! Did you like it? I hope you did! I found myself very pleased with the ending as in the end I strangely realized that I left Erik thinking of himself as a monster and Raoul realizing that he is a man, in a very literal sense and a metaphorical sense, you know? I also wanted to demonstrate that as much as I love Erik, he is Erik, and therefore he is possessive and a dark character. Hence the sort of strange way I ended his last scene with Christine. I also wanted to show just how real Christine's fear that he was dead was in her praying to multiple Gods... and of course Erik lying to her just so that she might not be hurt by the revelation that the dead body was Jonathan.**

**I want to thank you all for being so gracious and kind to me while writing this story and encouraging to look past the whole 'reviews' nonsense :) It really was a valuable lesson and I thank you so much!**

**I am curious to hear what you all thought, ALL thought :) **

**On another note, the story which I will begin soon is not titled yet but it will probably be posted soon so stay tuned for that.**

**It will be a story about Christine and Erik living in an orphanage and the life they have to endure. Erik will be considerably darker then I've written him out to be in this story. It will touch upon very heavy subjects, heavier then in this story, so if you are looking for some light material, this story will NOT be it. **

**Hope I've interested you :) I'll probably post a teaser here at some point...**

**Author subscribe, and thank you a million times over.**

**The end. **


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